LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



D0DD52Db2DD 




Qass. 
Book- 






ON THE 



EASTERN STATES. 






NEW-YORK:v; 

PUBLISHED BY KIRK 'AND MER^^siw, — 



NO. 2£, WALL-STRlJF.r. 



1820. 



\..^ 



Southern District of A''eiv- York, ss. 

BE IT REMEMBERED, that on the eighth dav of April, 
in the fort}-fouith year of the [ndepeiulenre of the United States 
of America, WiHiam A. Mercein, of the said District, hath deposi- 
ted in this office the title of a Book, the right whereof he claim* 
as Proprietor, in the words following, to wit; 

LETTERS 



EASTERN STATES. 



In confoiTnity to the Act of the Congress of the United States, en- 
titled " An Act for the encouragement of Learning, by securing 
the copies of Ma|)s, Charts, and Books, to the authors and proprie- 
tors of such copies, during the time therein mentioned." And also 
to an Act, entitled " An Act, supplementary to an Act, entitled 
an Act for the encouragement of Learning, by securing the copies 
of Maps, Charts, and Books, to the authors and proprietors of such 
copies, during tiie times therein mentioned, and extt nding the bene- 
iits thereof to the arts of designing, eugraving, and etching historical 
and other prints." 

G. L. THOMPSON, 
Clerk of tlie Southern District of New-Yorlt. 



WILLIAM A. MERCEIN, PRINTER, NO. 93, GOLD-STREE'l 



CONTENTS. 

LETTER I. 

Page 

On certain Funeral Ceremonies ........•..#«• 5 

LETTER II. 
Politics 18 

LETTER III. 
Religion • •.... 69 

LETTER IV. 

Commerce 9i 

LETTER V. 

Literature IIT 

LETTER VI. 
Fine Arts 14^ 

LETTER VII. 
On the relative Rank of Americans 163 

LETTER VIII. 
Character and Condition of Women 17? 

LETTER IX. 
Agriculture • ,,•• 196 



I 



VI CONTENTS. 

LETTER X. 

Pag* 

Manufactures ...t... 213 

LETTER XL 

Remarks on certain points of Administration in dif- 
ferent States 225 

LETTER Xn. 
On the past, present, and future State of the Indians 236 

LETTER XIIL 
Scenery and Climate 258 

LETTER XIV. 
Harvard University , 281 

LETTER XV. 
The Town of Boston 298 

LETTER XVI. 
Genius, Character, and Manners of the Inhabitants 
of Boston 31? 



PREFACE. 



The following Letters, addressed to dif- 
ferent persons, were principally written with- 
in the last year. The reader may consider 
them to be dated in Boston. The subjects 
are so miscellaneous, that the simplest me- 
thod of arrangement seemed to be the pre- 
cedence of date, in which order they are 
here placed. 

April, 1820. 



LETTERS, &c 



LETTER I. 

On certain Funeral Ceremonies. 

The advice you wish me to give, my dear friend, in a 
certain quarter, would be useless. I have long lost all 
influence there, if I ever had any. Counsel from me to 
avoid exposure to the pestilence, would rather induce 
your kinsman to encounter it, running the chance of the 
contingency, to prove me wrong. I believe, however, 
that your fears are needless, and you may safely calm 
your solicitude : — Were it otherwise, I could hardly 
partake of it. I am glad that your own experience and 
feelings make you think death such a misfortune for 
others : for myself, I think it far from being the worst 
thing that can happen to us, and there are situations in 
which, though it would not be justiiiable to seek it, 'tis 
not worth the trouble to avoid it. I have felt many 
moments when it appeared a desirable alternative. — I 
rejoice that you have not found life, to borrow the ex- 
aperated expressions of Helen M'Gregor, " the same 
weary and wasting burden that it is to me; — that it is to 
every noble and generous mind." But I have so much 
reason to regard its loss with indifference, that I can but 
faintly participate in your apprehensions. To say the 
truth, I am at times seriously tired of this chrysalis state 
of existence, and feel a wish to be trying my wings in a 
different region. You know that I am not sullen, nor 
careless of your anxieties; but if my views are gloomy, 
are not your fears unfounded; — or if not unfounded, arc 

1 



they not exaggerated ? This is a subject that will bear 
the support of poetry : let me recall a passage that yo\i 
are well acquainted with. 



Reason thus with life : 



If I do lose thee, I do lose a thing 

That none but fools would reck ; — a breath thou art, 

Servile to all the skyey influences, 

That do this habitation, where thou keep'st, 

Hourly afflict. Merely thou art death's fool; 

For him thou labour'st by thy flight to shun, 

And yet runn'st tow'rd him still: — Thou art not noble ; 

For all the accommodations that thou bear'st 

Are nurs'd by baseness : — Thou'rt by no means valiant ; 

For thou dost fear the soft and tender fork 

Of a poor worm. Thy best of rest is sleep. 

And that thou oft provok'st, yet grossly fear'st 

Thy death, which is no more. Thou'rt not thyself: 

For thou exist'st on many a thousand grains, 

That issue out of dust : — Happy thou art not; 

For what thou hast not. still thou striv'st to get, 

And what thou hast, forget'st : — Thou art not certain ; 

For thy complexion shifts to strange effects. 

After the moon. If thou art rich, thou'rt poor; 

For like an ass whose back with ingots bows, 

Thou bear'st thy heavy riches but a journey. 

And death unloadeth thee. Friends thou hast none : 

For thy own bowels, which do call thee sire, 

The mere eft'usion of thy proper loins. 

Do curse the gout, serpigo, and the rheum, 

For ending thee no sooner. Thou hast nor youth nor age.. 

But as it were an after-dinner's sleep. 

Dreaming on both: for paird,thy blessed youth 

Becomes as aged — and doth beg the alms 

Of palsied Eld : and when thou'rt old and rich. 

Thou hast neither heat, atfeclion, limb, nor beauty, 

To make thy riches pleasant: — What's yet in this 

That bears the name of life ? yet in this life 

Lie hid more thousand deaths; yet death we fear.- 

That makes these odds all even. 



But I do not wish to bring you to my conclusions; anil 
if these arguments have an influence that way, you know 
where to find in the same admirable drama* the oppo- 
site side of the question, stated even more eloquently, 
and with an effect that will make you shudder. 

You will do me the justice to acknowledge that, what- 
ever may be the course of my reflections, I do not often 
talk or write in the strain I have here been led into; but 
it may be a fit occasion, after this introduction, to make 
some remarks, which I once promised you, on the sub- 
ject of funerals, as they are practised in the eastern 
states. The traits of peculiarity which distinguish them 
are all derived, like many other things in our habits and 
customs, from the practice of the first forefathers, and is 
considerably tinctured with that stoical spirit, which the 
circumstances they were placed in, and the austere 
principles of their religion, combined to produce. 

In that lot which is common to all, it might have been 
supposed that some similarity of practice would have 
taken place. Yet the manner of disposing of the body 
after death, is almost as various as are the causes which 
produce it. The Hebrews gathered the bodies of their 
friends to the bones of their fathers, in caves. The 
Egyptians embalmed the frail tenement, which becomes 
so ignoble the moment the ethereal spirit has fled, and 
thus handed down to posterity their hideous mummies; 
the Greeks buried or burned their dead indiscriminately; 
among the Romans, the bodies of the great at least were 
always burned. Some savage nations expose their dead 
on scaffolds, to be devoured by birds; others commit them 
to the current of some sacred stream, to be consumed 
by fishes. The first Christians adopted the practice of 

* Measure for Measure. 



8 



burying, which was partly induced by some points of 
religious belief, and confirmed by the gradual introduc- 
tion of many superstitious practices, till this method 
every where accompanied their religion. 

The Romans erected their mausolea on the sides of 
their highways, or at the entrance of their country seats. 
Now and then an individual, in modern times, recurs to 
the practice of antiquity. The late Duke of Olden- 
burgh, the most virtuous and estimable prince of his 
time, built, by the side of the public burying ground of 
his little capital, a tomb with the form of a small Grecian 
temple, in the simplest Doric style, and in the purest 
taste; in this were to be deposited the urns containing 
the ashes of his family, whose bodies were burnt in a 
small building adjoining. Tlie Marquis of Stafford has 
placed opposite the entrance of his residence in Stafford- 
shire, a stately tomb for his family. But the common 
custom of the Christian world is the literal fulfilment 
of the precept, " dust to dust;" and the place ofdeposite 
is either within the walls of the church, or the surround- 
ing cemetery that is consecrated with it. In this country 
alone,* is there any deviation from this solemn, aftect- 
ing, yet often noxious usage. It is solemn to place the 
remains of our friends within that sacred temple, which 
is dedicated to God; it is affecting to offer our devotions, 
surrounded by the graves of those we have loved; but 
in great cities, it becomes as noxious to the living as it 
is useless to the dead, and a wise police has gradually 
prohibited it in most countries, or at least diminished the 

* The deputies who were sent to this country from Pernambuco, 
in its recent revolt, made a visit to Boston, and nothing appeared to 
strike them witli more surprise, than the seeing some burying grounds 
it) the country, unprotected by, and out of si§ht of, any church. 



evil, by reserving such sepulture for those of high dis- 
tinction. 

Funeral ceremonies are every where different, and 
peo|»le of different nations would mutually revolt at 
those to which they had not been accustomed; for when 
the feelings of religion and the anguish of grief have com- 
bined their effects on our minds, wg are particularly 
shocked at any thing that differs from us. In the south 
of Italy, the last care of friends is to array the deceased 
in a full dress: if a man, his hair is powdered, a sword put 
by his side, and a bouquet at his breast, and then the body 
is delivered to monks, or to one of those benevolent fra- 
ternities that devote themselves to the service of the hos- 
pitals and the burial of the dead. It is taken by them 
through the streets, exposed in the coflin serving for many 
generations, and carried to some church, where a mass 
beingsaid over it, the sexton receives itinto his possession, 
strips it naked, and burns it. Nothing can be more re- 
pulsive to unaccustomed eyes than this hideous contrast 
of ghastly death with the gaudy trappings of dress. In 
England, according to the regulations of an ancient law, 
partly sumptuary and partly to encourage the woollen 
trade,the body is always shrouded in woollen; thus making 
even the dead contribute to the promotion of manufac- 
tures. A Neapolitan, on seeing one of these plain shrouds, 
would be shocked in turn, and ready to exclaim, with 
" poor Narcessa," 

"Odious in woollen — 'twould a saint provoke." 

In visiting a cemetery one day, near a city in Italy, 
the sexton conducted me into a small building near the en- 
trance, where the bodies of three or four children were 
1* 



10 



lying on a platform. They were all very prettily dress 
ed,and the head of each adorned with a wreath of flowers. 
Ignorant of this custom, I believed them to be asleep: 
and thinking it strange they should be in this situation, I 
started a little on approaching, and perceived them to be 
dead. The grave-digger asked me, if I was afraid of 
" questi angelica .^" a delicacy of expression that struck 
me in one of his profession. They had been brought that 
morning, and with all the other corpses that might come 
in the course of the day, were to be stripped and then 
deposited in the same pit, which was not to be opened 
again till the expiration of a year. There is one for 
everyday. 

An equal diversity prevails in the management and ap- 
pearance of those enclosures which protect our final 
quiet home. Those cemeteries where repose " the 
countless nations of the dead," areas unlike as the dress 
and language of their tenants while living. In some, the 
ground is thickly studded with monumental stones, which 
vainly endeavour to prolong the memory of those who 
have already mingled with the earth beneath ; while 
others show nothing but those slight swellings of the sur- 
face, which, even in a desert, immediately indicate that 
they cover a being who will disturb it no more. The 
Quakers, consistent with their levelling policy, unwil- 
ling that human vanity should attempt with perishable 
distinctions to destroy that equality which death has pro- 
duced, exclude monuments from their burying grounds. 
The Catholics generally do the same; a cenotaph is 
placed in a church, where the deceased is of high rank; 
but Protestants in most countries give monuments of 
some kind to their friends and families. To the former 
this seems an idle vanity. When Buonaparte, in one of 



11 



his early visits to Italy, first saw the English burial place* 
at Leghorn, which is filled with monuments, he exclaim- 
ed, '' See those proud islanders, vain even in death." 

In some places the burial ground is never entered but 
by the sexton, with the funeral convoy, and the rank 
grass rustles unheard; — in others, the sexton pastures a 
cow; — what a practice, and what a perquisite ! In some, 
the public pathway crosses the ground, that some 
steps may be saved in the brief bustle of the plodder 
who passes it, unheeding what he tramples on; and 
vagrant boys are seen making the memorials of the dead 
subserve the purposes of their idle play. In some, they 
form public walks, where children are carried for the 
air in the morning, and assignations are made for the 
evening. In some countries, the tomb once built, the 
task of vanity is discharged, and it is left to itself, and to 
the injuries it may encounter; — in others, affection sup- 
plies the place of a moniiment, by careful and repeated 
visits to the grave. At the great church of Rosschild, 
where lies " the majesty of buried Denmark," the sides 
of the church are in divisions, that might be chapels if 
they were not tombs, and all the noble families of the 
kingdom, their deceased relatives, lie there in coffins of 
brass and lead, with their gaudy coverings fallen into 
hideous ruin from damp and rottenness, and exposed to 
view through iron railings. In the churchyard and 
church, the graves of humbler individuals are kept in the 
neatest order, and every Sunday their friends arrange 
them afresh, and place upon them bunches of flowers. 

* It is commonly called so, as there are more of that nation than 
of any other; but its real appellation is the Protestant burying place ; 
because persons of that sect from all nations are buried in it. There 
is one other devoted to the Jews; e^nd one to the Catholics. 



12 



Observing in the floor of this church, a stone covered 
with wreaths of flowers, I asked the sexton what person 
had been just buried there. "O, sir, that was the wife of 
our pastor : she has been dead several years, but she 
was very much beloved, and some of the parishioners 
bring fresh wreaths of flowers every Sunday, and every 
one takes care not to walk on them." A grave in the 
yard, which was very carefully kept, and on which two 
or three bunches of flowers were sticking, he said was 
preserved in that state by the children of a parent, who 
had been buried there many years before. These afi'ec- 
tionate demonstrations of remembrance, may recall to 
mind the interesting anecdote which the ancients have 
related concerning the origin of the Corinthian order. 
The mother or nurse lamenting the death of a young 
girl, placed on her grave a basket, containing her toys 
and playthings, covered with a tile. It chanced to be 
placed on a root of the acanthus: the leaves of the plant 
growing up around it, and obstructed by the tile, were 
bent over, so as to form very nearly the appearance of 
the Corinthian capital. Callimachus happening to see it, 
took the hint, and formed the Corinthian column, the last 
and most elegant of the orders. 

There is one inconvenience attending the cemeteries 
of cities, which all mankind naturally revolt at, and 
which draws from every one the imprecation contained 
in Shakspeare's epitaph ; — they must in time become so 
heaped up with the spoils of mortality, as to require 
removal to prevent pestilence. — The most remarkable 
instance of this exhumation took place in Paris, and 
several years were occupied in the task, which was per- 
formed without being generally known to the public. 
It was commenced previous to the Revolution, but the 
operation continued under all its political changes. The 



13 



immense collection of bones, which had accumulated ia 
the burial grounds of that great city during the course 
of centuries, were thrown into the quarries which arc 
near and partly under it. These excavations are com- 
monly about one hundred feet below the surface, and 
may now, like the subterranean galleries and quarries of 
Rome and Naples, be called catacombs. The fancy of 
the French has, however, exerted itself to produce the 
most singular exhibition in the world, consisting of a 
variety of ornamental objects, which were never befoKe 
formed of similar materials. These bones have been 
piled up in various forms, such as obelisks, columns, 
pyramids, &c.; various inscriptions are scattered about, 
and with the aid of torch-light, the inhabitant of this 
nether world walks through extensive galleries and cham- 
bers, surrounded by the remains of countless thousands. 
In a few minutes you may pass from the bustle, the fri- 
volity, the gayety of a brilliant capital, to the caverns 
beneath it, tilled with the remains of those who in their 
time also "■ played many parts;" and the mementos are 
innumerable, to enable the philosophic speculator, after 
a visit to these regions of the dead, to assure those he 
has left, that " let them paint an inch thick, to this com- 
plexion they must come at last." 

To return from this digression. When our ancestors 
tirst landed in this country, their numbers were so few. 
that the death of an individual was like a loss in a fami- 
ly: the decease of one of their number was a common 
concern; it made the loneliness of their situation still 
more apparent, and naturally carried their thoughts 
back to their country and friends they had left, the re- 
collection of whom often tilled their minds with sorrow, 
in spite of their hiroic constancy; and these tender re- 
riollections came over them with accumulate d forcft 



&, 



14 



when one of their little band was taken away. The 
death of an individual was one of the most interesting 
events that could happen to them, and the funeral of the 
deceased was attended as a solemn duty by all, when all 
participated in the bereavement. 

There was another motive that produced this general 
attendance ; this colony was a religious one, founded ex- 
pressly for religious purposes ; a funeral was an occasion 
where religious feelings and impressions could be most 
strongly produced. The precarious tenure of our exist- 
ence, which was then so strikingly obvious, was made 
use of for the purpose of exhortation, to devote them- 
selves to the constant consideration of their future state, 
and to give themselves exclusively to the service of God, 
whose worship after the dictates of their own conscience, 
was the cause of their expatriation. A funeral was 
therefore a religious occasion which none could neglect. 

Our ancestors had left a country they loved, to en- 
counter the unknown horrors of exile in a new and dis- 
tant land. Their minds were elevated to a high pitch 
of steady enthusiasm, which could alone have supported 
them underthe difficulties and dangers they were exposed 
to. By such men all the enervating emotions of grief 
and despondency were discountenanced. A stoical dis- 
regard of common sufferim^s, and of tender feelings, was 
a practice of religious duty. The nourishing of grief 
and the indulgence of excess in sensiltility, were frown- 
ed at; a submission to the Divine will, and a subjection 
of all their passions to a rigid discipline, was constantly 
inculcated. Parents were called upon to yield their 
children, wives their husbands, and children their pa- 
rents, without a murmur. All the dearest relations wer<i 
therefore habituated to attend the obsequies of their de- 



Id 



ceased relatives, and follow them to the grave. From 
thence arose the practice, that even the nearest relations, 
in the deepest moments of alHiclion, Ibllowed their friends 
to their last home. It was expected that a mother should 
see her beloved child, or the dear partner of her life, 
deposited in the grave, with pious resignation, and witness 
that agonizing ceremony, while listening with indescriba- 
ble horror to the sound of the earth falling on the coffin 
of the most beloved object of her heart. 

This fashion continued when the original purpose, 
or motive, had ceased, and when the sternness and 
austerity of their manners and habits no longer ex- 
isted, so as to afford them any particular gratitication 
in the practice of it. In the course of time, too, 
as their numbers increased, and a diversity of interests 
prevailed, the unity of their social state was broken up, 
and the sort of sympathy, which had existed in a small 
community, diminished. The forms, however, con- 
tinued, and the processions lengthened, till at last they 
were composed of very incongruous materials, of a few 
wretched sufferers, who followed the hearse with eyes 
blinded with weeping, and faltering steps, and with a 
long train of others, who were performing with indiffer- 
ence or unwillingness an irksome duty. This mode ol 
funerals continued till its inconveniences reached their 
height. A few years since, the procession was made as 
long as possible; the relatives, male and female, all walk- 
ed; the acquaintances of both sexes followed, and a train 
of carriages, generally empty, brought up the rear; the 
bells were all tolling, and not, as now, at intervals, but 
without ceasing ; so that the original purpose of this 
ceremony of tolling the bells, which was to keep the deril 
•'rom coming within the sound of them, to annoy the dead, 



i 



16 



was very efiectually answered. It was considered a mark 
of sympathy, and called for by decorum, to walk, how- 
ever bad the weather or the walking might be. Few 
more effectual modes could be devised for laying the 
foundation of a new funeral. This bringing together 
crowds of indifferent people, produced nothing but the 
grimace of solemnity; and the scene so admirably des- 
cribed at the funeral of Mrs. Margaret Bertram of Sin- 
side, in Guy Mannering, had here many prototypes. 

The inconvenience began to be gradually remedied; 
the bells ceased their incessant clattering, and were 
struck only at intervals; the nearest relations, females 
at least, were excused from going to the grave; no fe- 
males walked, and in many cases there was no proces- 
sion on foot. The desire of a long procession begins 
to be less an object of pride; and the vanity of a '■'grand 
burying'^ is becoming more and more confined to people 
of colour." A few individuals have dispensed with 
public processions in the case of any of their families. 
The decease of an individual is announced in the papers, 
for the information of acquaintances, but the funeral 
obsequies are private, and the ceremonies are fulfilled 
by the kindness of half a dozen intimate, sympathizing 
friends. This practice will gradually become universal. 
The useless cruelty of forcing agonized hearts to follow 
to the grave; the unfeeling indecorum which requires a 
display of their anguish to the gaze of the public, and 
the collecting a crowd of indifferent people to go 
through a useless ceremony with reluctance, will all be 
obviated. A great deal of idle expense will be saved, 
and often to those who can ill afford it. This last conside- 
ration should weigh with persons by whom expense will 
not be felt, to make retrenchment the practice of the 



17 



uiost superfluous of all vanities, that others may lollow 
their example, and not waste in burying the dead, what 
is wanted lor the subsistence of the living. 

Our burial grounds in large towns throughout the 
United States are too much crowded, and too much ne- 
glected. They have a desolate look of abandonment. At 
New-Haven there is one on a better plan, and which 
forms an interesting object. A reform in our cemeteries 
would be honourable to public feeling. An ample piece 
of ground selected in the vicinity of large towns, from 
land which would be of little value for any thing else, 
should be devoted to this purpose. It would be easy, 
without great expense, to give the walls and entrance an 
appropriate appearance. The cypress, the willow, and 
other funeral trees, would form suitable ornaments with- 
in. A sufficient space might be allowed to dillerent fami- 
lies to decorate as they choose, and where their remains 
would repose for ages untouched. A certain' degree of 
care should be bestowed in keeping the enclosure and its 
alleys in a state of neatness, which would seem a decent 
remembrance of the dead. Such a cemetery would be 
an interesting spot to visit; and when dispirited by un- 
kindness, misfortune, or that lifeless satiety, that makes 
life insipid, a walk among the groves of our friends might 
sooth the mind into composure with this evanescent 
scene; make it look forward with calmness, if not com- 
placency, to the time when we shall be re-uniied to those 
we have lost; when we too shall be where '■ the wicked 
cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest." 



18 

LETTER 11. 

Politics. 

My dear Sir, 

Though we have worn different cockades, and 
marched in separate columns, our ultimate views have 
terminated in the same point — the happiness and solid 
glory of our country. If our prejudices have led us to 
sympathize with particular individuals, we have not felt 
the less contempt for the mere " drummers and trum- 
peters of faction ;" nor been blind to the obliquities in 
the political course of those with whom we were en- 
listed. Local circumstances may have given a diiferent 
appearance to our opinions, as it has to our dress; but 
this very variety was adopted to preserve comfort and 
health in the latter, and consistency in the former. We 
may dififer about details, or the merits of this or that in- 
dividual; but in most of the essential points of policy we 
have fully agreed ; and during the present political 
truce we may take a retrospect of the past, with so much 
more candour, as in the future combination of parties, 
whenever the strife is renewed, the personnel will be 
dift'erent, though the materiel may be the same. 

It is as easy to imagine a river without banks, as a free 
government without parties. Without the one and 
the other, the current would be stopped in both, 
and both become stagnant. Parties which tend to pre- 
serve the constitution in a sound and vigorous state, may 
sometimes, by intemperance and diseased action, cause 
its destruction. Every man who is not a visionary knows, 
that their existence is at once inevitable and indispen- 



19 



:>able; but ail enliglitened and indcpcndeDt minds will 
be careful not to identify them with their country. 
They will consider them as the means through which 
that country may be served, yet will not confound the 
means with the end. In extreme cases the one must be 
abandoned to preserve the other; and so long as a peo- 
ple continue intelligent and virtuous, they will not be 
doubtful which is to be sacrificed. The horror which 
honourable minds feel at being suspected of sordid mo- 
tives; the fear of losing their friends, and the obloquy 
that will be cast upon them through life, will deter 
leading men from preferring the interest of their party 
to the honour of their country; and this we see to be 
the case ; the leaders often remain until they are 
completely abandoned by every one of their followers. 

Every man who has had much party experience, must 
sometimes be disgusted with the tools he is obliged to 
use, and tired of the course he is impelled to pursue. 
The opinion of one of the most thorough partisans of 
modern times, Avhose political writings are as dear and 
correct, as his philosophical ones are obscure.and false — 
I mean Lord Bolingbroke — may be cited as an authority 
excathedra : " A man who has not seen the inside of par- 
" ties, nor had opportunities to examine nearly their se- 
" cret motives, can hardly conceive how little a share 
" principle of any sort, though principle of some sort or 
" other be always pretended, has in the determination 
" of their conduct. Reason has small effect on numbers. 
" A turn of imagination, often as violent and as sudden 
'' as a gust of wind, determines their conduct ; and pas- 
" sion is taken by others, and by themselves too, when 
' it grows into habit especially, for principh'.'' 



20 



It is very injurious to a party to remain for a long pe- 
riod in opposition, since they will, in the course of it, 
inevitably fall into relaxation or inconsistency; and their 
adherents are lost by the one, and disgraced by the other. 
A party, on the contrary, in possession of power, how- 
ever mean may have been their origin, gradually in- 
crease in strength and respectability, till a vast majority of 
the nation is on their side; and then presumption or false 
views commonly occasion their ruin. These remarks are 
certainly applicable to the two great parties in the 
United States. The federalists showed too much pre- 
sumption from having founded the constitution, and from 
having so many illustrious men among them. Your 
friends began their career with no great stock of cha- 
racter in some sections; and sacrificed for a time the vi- 
tal interests of the nation to the acquisition of popula- 
rity. Their numbers increased lirst by intrigues, then 
by the indifferent;^ till at last, in some of the states, there 
was not a private or a subaltern left on the opposite side. 
The force of circumstances, and the very possession of 
power, obliged them to adopt sound measures of policy, 
and to promote those very objects for whose destruction 
they came into office. Their opponents gradually went 
over to them, and the federal party would have become 
even sooner extinct, if considerations of local policy in 
particular states had not still maintained the name, as 
a matter of convenience. 

This cessation of party at intervals, must inevitably 
take place, from the nature of our political system. An 
occasional fallow in the field of politics aftbrds a fertili- 
zing repose; it prevents the rank growth of party from 
exhausting the soil of patriotism. That there will al- 
ways be materials for opposition, follows of course: but 



21 



a continuity of opposition in any one body of men is im- 
possible. Perhaps the revolution of parties may be 
calculated hereafter with as much precision as the re- 
turn of comets; but we have not sufficient experience 
now to fix their periods. The first party was under- 
mined at the end of twelve years; yet this was effected 
by a most skilful statesman, singularly qualified for the 
task; and even he would not have succeeded at the time, 
if he had not been aided by the contagious virus of 
the French Revolution. The process, whenever it is 
attempted, will be nearly the same; the cry will be eco- 
nomy, &c. &c.; but there is so little of mere populace 
in our country, that so long as the administration pre- 
serve a due share of discretion in the management of 
affairs, the operation of subverting them will be slow. 
How long the present succession of things may last, it 
is impossible to say; but a complete revolution in the 
administration must be more and more difficult to ac- 
complish. The old or federal oppositionists have be- 
come the supporters of the administration, though nei- 
ther officially nor officiously. They had nothing to op- 
pose — their occupation is gone. The party in power 
has come back to the true interests and principles of the 
government. Such will be the routine. Ambitious in- 
dividuals create a party; and aided by circumstances, are 
borne into power through popular caprice or delusion. 
They put the safety of the nation in jeopardy to maintain 
this delusion. After becoming fixed in their seats, they 
lind it necessary to guide the car of state into the beaten 
road, (o prevent its destruction. Those who opposed 
them are then tranquillized, caring little who holds the 
reins, if they are proceeding in the right road. Parties 



22 



are amalgamated; and aspiring politicians commence a 
fresh division. 

From looking at the machinery of English politics, 
some persons have had the idea of such a regular op- 
position here, as exists there, without considering the 
radical difference between our political systems. The 
opposition in England has a sort of hereditary perma- 
nency. It is aunion of the aristocracy and democracy 
against the crown. Several of the great families of that 
kingdom, from aristocratic pride, and disdaining to ask 
favours, which their rank and fortune make them care- 
less about, keep aloof from the government, though not 
always engaged in active opposition. Their immense 
landed property gives them the control of several bo- 
roughs, for which they return to the house of commons 
their sons or connexions. There are, besides, the rot- 
ten boroughs, for which a seat is purchased, that en- 
ables a statesman, however unpopular, to continue in 
parliament. Two or three cities, besides, where the 
lower class of citizens have a vote, return representa- 
tives who commonly join this party, because they arc 
too few to act by themselves. The party thus composed 
is generally a minority of one-fifth or one-sixth of the 
lower house, and called the whig party; — their founda- 
Jation is in the aristocracy. They are, as Burke said 
of himself when he belonged to them, nailed to the north 
wall of opposition, and maintain a regular system of at- 
tack against every measure of the ministry; of course 
they are wrong the greater part of the time, and are 
often opposed to the opinion of the nation. At distant 
intervals they are forced by circumstances on the king, 
who never receives them cordially, or retains them 
long. Now what similarity is there between this oppo- 



23 



eition and an opposition in this country ? We have no 
hereditary senators, who can follow their own senti- 
ments, regardless of the feelings of the nation ; we have 
no boroughs which we can buy to place us in congress; 
opposition therefore cannot be continued in this coun- 
try to men, when measures are satisfactory. If Mr. 
Burke lost his election for Bristol, he might still have a 
seat in parliament for Old Sarum or St. Mawes. When 
Mr. Ames lost the election in his county of Norfolk, he 
could no longer remain in the house of representatives. 
Public sentiment cannot be made to adopt individual 
prejudices and animosities for a long time; when the 
people generally are satisfied with the course pursued 
by the administration, they will elect men who will har- 
monize with it. Principia non homines is essentially the 
maxim of our political system. There is in this country 
no foundations for supporting a permanent party in op- 
position, any more than a permanent party in power. 

The federal party has in fact been extinct for some 
time. You will excuse me for dwelling at all on so ob- 
vious a truth, because a number of demagogues here 
have a lively interest in maintaining the contrary, as it 
gives them a pretension to that exclusive favour at 
Washington, which they would else be without. We 
also see occasionally some people at the south, beating 
the air with the cry of federalism, probably from habit. 
If the majority of people in the state of Maryland do 
not choose to be governed by the banditti of Baltimore; 
or in Massachusetts are unwilling to displace a gallant, 
revolutionary patriot, against whom no shadow of re- 
proach can be cast; and if these people are called fe- 
deralists, it is still idle to talk of the federal party. In 
some states it had never any existence at all, and in 



24 



many others has long ceased from any exertion. As its 
extinction was announced by no formal act, it cannot be 
dated exactly : it may be said to have terminated when 
the late war commenced, though an opportunity was 
then furnished it for renewal, which was lost, perhaps 
fortunately so ; or at least it expired with the termination 
of that war, and since the last presidential election, not 
a trace of it as a national party can be found. 

This party will have justice done to it by posterity. 
Its services or its errors I neither wish to magnify, nor 
extenuate. When contemporary partialities and enmi- 
ties shall be forgotten, it will be considered one of the 
most illustrious combinations to be found in the annals 
of freedom. But this is not the time to write its history; 
there are too many yet alive, to borrow a figure of Mr. 
Grattan's, " who have sat by its cradle, and who have 
followed its hearse." Called into existence to admi- 
nister and support that glorious constitution, which the 
wisdom of the states had adopted, it commenced its ca- 
reer with the purest feelings of patriotism. The nation 
held in pledge for an upright management of its affairs, 
the noblest reputation which modern times have known. 
Almost all the survivors of the revolutionary struggle, 
who had been eminent in the council or the field, were 
to be found in its ranks, and they who had achieved the 
independence of their country, were called upon to pre- 
serve it. Surrounded with difficulties in the outset, 
sti'uggling against the undisguised ill will of one nation, 
and the insidious friendship of another, they had all the 
departments of the public service to create, and at the 
same time to adjust the machinery of a new government 
on a young, restive, and expanding nation. Envy, jea- 
lousy, and ambition were soon busilj'^ employed, to im- 



25 



pede their progress, misrepresent tlieir actions, and 
exaggerate tlieir errors. The universal phrenzy of the 
French Revolution brought timely aid to their exertions; 
men's minds became so excited by the electric state of 
the times, that all sober judgment was prevented, and 
passion decided on the results of calculation. Fortu- 
nately it withstood the torrent long enough to save the 
nation from the incalculable evils of an alliance with 
revolutionary Europe; in whose vortex, if we had once 
been involved, we should, when the whirlpool had sub- 
sided, like some others, have disappeared altogether, 
or rose to the surface disfigured, disgraced, and muti- 
lated. 

When this party was thrown out of power, its conduct 
in opposition, with very few exceptions, added new dig- 
nity to its former character. Exposed to a proscription 
the most universal, it received the assurance that there 
was no hope for personal ambition in its ranks, convey- 
ed in the remarkable compliment, that the time did not 
exist when it could only be inquired respecting a candi- 
date for office, " is he honest ? is he capable ? is he at- 
tached to the constitution ?" Yet with true magnani- 
mity, they struggled hard to defend, for the interests of 
the nation, those institutions from which they were pre- 
cluded, against the short-sightedness, bigotry, and zeal 
of an increasing, angry, intolerant party. They strove 
to preserve the edifices from which they had been 
driven, and to keep those who were in possession from 
devastating and destroying them. Their efforts were 
not wholly unavailing; the army, navy, finance, judicia- 
ry, all suffered dilapidation, and the nation enormous loss 
and subsequent mischief; but the foundations remained ; 
and after a period, when some very poignant lessons had 



26 



been inflicted by events, those who had exulted in the de- 
molition, began to assist in their re-construetion. 

As soon as this proof commenced, their existence 
was superfluous ; their task was completed, when the 
party in power ceased from the destruction of the fede- 
ral government, and began to restore the original prin- 
ciples of action and means of security for which this 
government had been adopted by the nation. Fede- 
ralism was no longer a distinction, when anti-federalism 
was extinct, any more than republicanism is, where 
there are no opposers of it. Nine hundred and ninety- 
nine in every thousand in the United States are repub- 
licans from predilection and from principle. Parties 
must invent new names for their watchword ; we are 
now " all republicans, all federalists." No man will 
lift a finger against the constituent principles of both 
these parties. Dispassionate and patriotic minds in the 
federal ranks welcomed this state of things ; which pre- 
vented the ultimate deterioration of a party, whose ge- 
neral career had been useful, dignified, and unpopular. 
The limits of this party had been constantly narrowing ; 
its connexion and concert more and more broken ; its 
character as a national party was shrinking into the 
confined policy of state politics ; its Catholic principles 
faUing into the narrowness of sectarianism. There 
being no longer a communication between distant points, 
and no plan of action, (the results of information and 
compromise from various quarters,) all general views 
were lost, and general sympathy of course destroyed. 
From the substitution of local passions and prejudices, 
for a wider system and more enlarged views, this inevi* 
table consequence ensued — that every one out of the 
coteries existing here and there, were dissatisfied. 



27 



disgusted and injured by the pursuit ot" measures which 
they disapproved, or tenets they denied. Great num- 
bers were therefore rejoiced when circumstances per- 
mitted the disbanding of a force, that had been originally 
guided in its career by the noblest principles ; but 
which, having lost many of its most distinguished leaders, 
being extremely incomplete in many of its divisions, 
was now led at times by subalterns without concert ; 
and had fallen so much from discipline, that a mere 
trumpeter would sometimes undertake to sound a 
charge, that might produce a serious check to one of 
the wings, or a disgraceful defeat to the whole body. 

That all the measures of this party were wise, or the 
opinions of all its members sound, no one will pretend ; 
that the one and the other generally merited this cha- 
racter, no one but the veriest bigot will venture to 
deny. Commencing the operations of a government 
without precedents to consult, or chart to direct, and at 
a time when political society was everywhere in a state 
of fermentation, it was impossible that some errors 
should not have taken place; yet in reviewing all the 
circumstances, it is astonishing that they were so ("ew. 
These few, however, nothing lessened in their dimen- 
sions, together with the foppery and extravagance of 
individual sentiments, sometimes produced in the wan- 
tonness of sport, and at others in a moment of irritation, 
were taken as the standard of their conduct. Posterity, 
at least, will listen to an appeal from this rule of judg- 
ment; for to quote again from Bolingbroke, " It would 
be hard indeed if parties were to be characterized not 
by their common views, or the general tenor of their 
conduct, but by the private views imputed to some 
among them, or by the particular sallies into which mis- 



28 



take, surprise, or passion, hath sometimes betrayed tiic 
best intentioned and even the best conducted bodies of 
men." 

I have spoken of the federal party generally, as a 
natural introduction to some remarks upon the portion 
of it in Massachusetts, which were the main purpose of 
this letter. I think, when you are acquainted with the 
peculiar situation in which the present ruling party in 
this state, one of the chief fragments of the federal 
party, has been placed, that you will admit there is some 
apology for their recent opposition. Calumny and mis- 
representation have been so widely and steadily disse- 
minated, that the most outrageous prejudices have been 
excited in other parts of the country; and many have 
condemned them for their violence, without any idea of 
the provocation they had received. Very extensive 
mischief, if it be mischief to create animosity between 
different sections of the country, has been effected by 
some of the journals at the south, and by other publi- 
cations industriously distributed. One of the most 
bulky of these may be cited as a specimen. An octavo 
volume, compiled by an Irish bookseller in Philadelphia, 
has, if the title page may be believed, gone through a 
dozen editions : patriotism and profit are both served 
by the sale of the work, which is entitled, " The Olive 
Branch, or faults on both sides:^^ — under this pretty name, 
parties are to be reconciled and differences healed by a 
candid exhibition of mutual errors. What is the per- 
formance ? — Passing over the dulness of a parcel of 
extracts from old newspapers, it has selected, with a 
delicacy and tenderness truly affectionate, a few slips 
on one side, which are softened with pathetic regrets and 
apologies : but from the other, the strongest passages in 



29 



remonstrances against particular measures; all the violen- 
ces of newspaper paragraphs, in the highest moments of 
irritation; all the ebullitions of declaimers, whose infir- 
mities of temper may have led them in moments of ex- 
citement into extravagance; every thing inflammatory 
that can be found among insulated speeches, sermons and 
gazettes, for a series of years, when the highest politi- 
cal ferment existed; all these are brought together as a 
regular plan, a continued system of inconsistency, dis- 
cord and faction. This is about as fair as it would be to 
make extracts from the bills of mortality in Philadel- 
phia, during the most fatal season of the yellow fever, 
and from those of Boston in a healthy summer, and give 
them as a true specimen of the salubrity of the two 
cities. 

A more malignant design could hardly have been 
imagined; though a smile is excited by a certain national 
raciness in the title of this book, which should have 
been the torch of Alecto, or perpetual rancour and ani- 
mosity. A work, indeed, of the kind to which this makes 
a hypocritical pretence, might become a text book of 
permanent utility, to teach political morality and wisdom 
to future statesmen; but it must not be the paltry impulse 
of party, or pecuniary thrift, that should guide its author. 
Who is there to undertake such a work? Who is there 
with sufficient sagacity and knowledge for the task, and, 
at the same time, sutficient independence of his own 
times? Such a man must not have any expectation 
either from the people or their delegates; he must fear 
neither the senate nor the tribunes; he must tell Caesar 
that his ambition will lead him and his country to destruc- 
tion; he must let Antony know that his profligate 
habits destroy the confidence which his courage, his 
3 



30 



talents and address would inspire; and he must — yei 
harder task — inform Cato that his vanity, his rudeness, 
and his confounding personal animosities with public 
principles, destroy all the advantages which his country 
might derive from his experience and integrity. 

There is much dissimilarity in the character of those 
who compose the parties that bear the same name in 
different parts of the country . The causes of this dis- 
crepancy it is not my purpose to investigate; nor do I 
intend to sketch the history of the democratic party 
among us; I might be a prejudiced historian. You can 
judge of its general character from the individuals you 
have seen. Candid men on that side are always willing 
to admit, that their party is not composed in this quarter 
of exactly such materials as they could wish. There 
are able and respectable men belonging to it, and there 
are among them many veterans of the revolution; because 
they were led to think that they were with the exclusive 
friends of that event. In point of numbers, it has varied 
at certain periods; but those who pretend to exclusive 
patriotism, always find followers : it has always been 
considerable in this respect; in others, its relative stand- 
ing has been very different. My chief object is to show 
you the position of the majority here, and while I hope 
you will allow that there is some apology for the violence 
of their recent opposition, 1 shall speak of the course 
they pursued, with freedom, and 1 trust with impartiality. 

The federalists in Massachusetts have frequently, not 
only by popular election, but by executive appointments, 
placed their opponents in places of profit, when it was an 
office they had before held, and in some instances 
appointed them to new ones; and very rarely has any 
person in any civil trust been turned out by them from 



31 



political considerations. The feelings of their antago- 
nists were not to be touched by any generous actions; 
their accession to power Avas like the irruption of a 
savage foe; every body was proscribed; integrity and 
length of service were notliing. This proscription, 
which only occasioned some individual distress, was of 
comparatively trifling importance. They attempted to 
destroy all freedom of opinion, and the very foundation of 
republicanism, by a tyrannical regulation of the banking 
system. The charters of the banks when about expiring, 
were to be refused a renewal. A new bank, with a very 
large capital, was incorporated, to which no man was to 
be admitted to become a s;il»scriber, unless he had cer- 
tain party qualifications : and to perpetuate power thus 
uprightly used, the ancient landmarks of the state 
were renovated, and the surface broken into new divi- 
sions, to secure majorities, which formed such strange 
portentous shapes in topography, that a new term was 
invented to express the operation. 

One powerful source of misrepresentation, and, strange 
as it may seem, of delusion, is the imputation of a love 
of aristocracy, royalty, monarchy, and the whole train of 
similar hobgoblins which are successfully used to fright- 
en babes in the democratic nursery. Preposterous as this 
may appear to you, thei'e are men full grown, who can 
read and write, and are allowed to vote, who believe 
this, and the sly knaves who inculcate it are able, from 
habit, to keep their countenance while they are telling 
the story. Now, to an European, ivho knows of what 
stuff kings and courtiers are made, this would be indes- 
cribably ludicrous, and his courtly arrogance would lead 
him to say, with Sancho, "You cannot make a silk purse 
from a pig's-ear;" but to those who have never seen 



32 

royalty, and its appendages, it is only absurd; the truth 
is, that the people of these states are all essentially demo- 
cratic republicans, in their civil and political code, their 
religion, education, laws respecting property, habits, 
prejudices, every thing. Even those who from mere 
wantonness and foppery talk lightly of republicanism, 
are all republicans in grain, and inveterately so. To 
make a monarchy here, would even be more impracti- 
cable than to make a republic in France; — this charac- 
ter indeed is not new to them; — their ancestors left 
England republicans two centuries ago; — their republi- 
canism has been rendered more perfect of late years. 
There was remaining, down to a recent period, some 
tinge of distinction in ranks, which was a slight remnant 
of the colonial state; this has been quite obliterated. 
Honesty, integrity, and intelligence are the only questions 
asked, and you might have seen, among the members of 
the Massachusetts legislature, when itlately obtained such 
a cumbrous size, not only merchants, lawyers, physi- 
cians, and farmers, but shoemakers, carpenters, painters, 
blacksmiths, masons, printers, &.c. I do not mean that 
they took the labourers from the workshops, because the 
wages of a legislator would not support a man, and a 
journeyman could not afford to serve; but men who were 
or had been masters of these trades themselves, did 
their duty in the legislature, and discharged it reputably. 
Nor, to do the federalists justice, can it be denied — 
whether it does them honour, is another question — that 
they have other marked traits of democracy. The 
parsimony in rewarding public services, the fear of 
losing popularity, the contumelious treatment of all those 
in power who were not placed there by themselves, the 
ceaseless jealousy with which the actions of all such 



33 



obnoxious persons were watched; adopting the most 
uncandid construction that can be put on every measure 
in the midst of diUicuhies; condemnation for what is 
done, and for what is left undone: if all these will estab- 
lish our claims to a full share of the democratic spirit, 
we have waggon -loads of vouchers. 

When the national administration had been transfer- 
red — as soon as conflicting claims had been settled — a 
general proscription was carried into elfect; all the old 
servants of the public were turned out to reward those 
who had laboured so assiduously for their places.- Nei- 
ther revolutionary services, upright conduct, and faith- 
ful discharge of trust, nor the negative praise of inoflen- 
siveness, much less the distress it might occasion the 
incumbent, were to be regarded. A general clearing was 
the consequence, so that only one or two standards 
remained. Indeed, at tlie moment, I only recoMect 
one, the veteran General Lincoln, one of those fine 
specimens of calm intrepidity, courtesy, simplicity and 
integrity, that ennoble the military career, and form 
its beau ideal. You will excuse my throwing this poor 
flower on his grave in passing, over which his country 
has not yet found time to erect a monument. 

The federalists it is well known grumbled and railed 
most stoutly at this process; but from its very nature it 
was soon completed; the new ofiTicers did their duty, and 
the murmurs gradually died away. They submitted so 
completely to this system, that they entirely gave up all 
ideas of being employed in the public service; and no 
claim on account of services rendered, of talents or 
peculiar fitness for ofiice, Avould have been considered 
worth urging in favour of any one belonging to this part}', 
however moderate he might be in his political charac- 
^3* 



34 

ler. At least nine-tenths of those, whose talents or edu- 
cation made them suitable for any kind, even the 
humblest of public employments, thus found themselves 
rigidly excluded in favour of the small minority that was 
left. 

This would at last have been considered a matter 
of course, and opposition would have in time wholly 
.subsided, if the administration at Washington had not 
thought it necessary, and doubtless for a period it was 
so, to use their constant efforts to place their partisans, 
already basking in the sunshine of national favour, in 
the control of the state governments; and we have 
seen that their conduct was such, as to excite the oppo- 
sition of every man who felt any interest in the dignity or 
prosperity of these governments. The federalists, there- 
fore, in this and the bordering states, were forced, from 
the most obvious principles of self-preservation, to 
continue in opposition, not so much to the federal go- 
vernment, as a resistance to a faction within themselves, 
enjoying the protection of that government, without 
which it would have been powerless and insignificant. 

Thus they went on, struggling annually to maintain 
their share in the state administrations, and to prevent, 
as they believed, the subversion of that system of local 
policy relating to the judiciary, the support of educa- 
tipn, religion, and various public institutions to which 
they were attached. These fears were doubtless ex- 
cessive as to the ultimate degree of mischief that would 
have been done, because the good sense of the citizens, 
deluded as they might be for a time, would not keep any 
party long enough in power to consummate the work r 
but that they were not wholly groundless, the open 
threats and open acts of this party had given full assu- 
rance. This was the situation of things between the 



35 



federalists in these states and the administration, down 
to the commencement of the late uar. 

This was a moment when, if conciliation had been 
possible, it would have been followed with the most 
glorious consequences. Whether one, or both sides, or 
neither, were to blame for its not taking place, I do not 
pretend to decide, but their common country was the 
victim. There was one transaction at this period 
which has left an indelible stain on its authors. One of 
the most wretched and insignificant of all intriguers, 
worthily seconded by a base, foreign swindler, went to 
Washington, and there revealed certain portentous se- 
crets to the president. While many an honest claimant 
was pining in delay of justice by a scrupulous treasury; 
while many an important fortress was without a gun for 
its defence, these glorious secrets were eagerly bought 
for fifty thousand dollars. As they contained only some 
silly, abortive intrigue of an English colonial governor, 
they seemed of little value in the list of grievances for 
a declaration of war, where so many very substantial 
ones existed ; and as the most malignant interpretation 
could implicate no citizen with connivance, if it had 
been thought worth while to make use of them against 
the enemy, a fine opportunity was offered for a magnani- 
mous exoneration of our own citizens, from all suspicion 
of yielding to these sinister intrigues. What was the 
course pursued ? — I will not trust myself to charac- 
terize it; public sentiment has pronounced on the subject; 
but the impolicy was flagrant, that attempted to stigma- 
tize with infamy all the leading men in a powerful sec- 
tion of the country, on the eve of a war, that demanded 
for its successful termination the whole energy of a 
united nation. Is there any person who can wonder 



36 



that men who had a spark of honour or integrity remain- 
ing, should hurl defiance at an administration, whicii 
sought to blast them with insinuations of the most despi- 
cable treason ? 

When the war commenced, numerous appointments 
were to be made ; many of these were of a description 
to need a high, elevated, gallant feeling, and afforded 
another opening for reconciliation, by calling on all 
classes for the- public defence. Was there any instance, 
in this part of the country, where a roan's party qualifi- 
cations were disregarded ? Could any man obtain leave 
to shed his blood for his countr}^, even if his father had 
done so before him, unless he carried a recommendation 
from those who had so fatally persuaded the administra- 
tion to abandon this important section of the Union to 
their control ? In other states there were some very 
notorious federalists who received military appointments, 
but here an inveterate hostility doomed them to inac- 
tion. If the case were reversed, do you think that 
your friends and neighbours would tamely endure this 
most galling kind of outlawing ? 

I trust to your forbearance for one word more of re- 
proach against your friends. The most extensive mis- 
chief has resulted from the administration so pertina- 
ciously making a privileged pet of the democratic party 
among us, which in this case, as in most others of per- 
verse fondness, had neither the graces of mind nor 
body to excuse the caprice. The whole interior man- 
agement in this quarter during the war, left the majority 
of the state in some doubt, whether their destruction, or 
that of the enemy, was the favourite object. Certain it 
is, that much more serious injury might have been done 
to the latter, if hatred against the former had been less 



37 

active, or only been postponed. Essential measures 
were defeated through the desire to mortify and degrade 
those who held the military and civil command of the 
state. It would be too repulsive a task to go into details, 
but such was the fact. Whenever the situation in which 
the government of Massachusetts was unfortunately 
placed, shall be fairly aud fully investigated, men of 
honourable feelings and impartial minds, though they may 
be of opposite political sentiments, will allow that there 
was much excuse for the heated and disastrous opposition 
the state was almost obliged to sustain. Its services, 
means, exertions, were all engaged in the public de- 
fence, and might have been rendered much more effec- 
tive, if a course had not been pursued which was useless 
for every purpose but to gratify the malignant feelings 
of an inherent faction. 

Having thus mentioned to you a few circumstances, to 
show how the ruling party here were forced, driven, 
goaded into a continued opposition to the national go- 
vernment, which was, notwithstanding, founded on con- 
siderations of local policy, and directed more against a 
domestic faction among themselves, than against the 
general administration, I trust the statement, which 
might have been enlarged with many emphatic details, 
will have some weight in your mind, to excuse the vio- 
lence of that opposition, on which I now proceed to 
comment with the same freedom, that I have spoken 
of the injurious policy exercised towards it. In all 
these remarks 1 consider the administration and the 
opposition of that period as both extinct; and that we 
are reviewing their conduct as an affair of history — 
though of history too recent, it must be owned, to ex^ 
pect perfect impartiality. 



38 



1 have before remarked, that the commencement of 
the late war was a moment when the federal party might 
have been renewed — that the opportunity was lost, and 
perhaps fortunately. — Though a war with one of the 
great belligerent powers had seemed inevitable for years, 
it was declared at last rashly, because very slight pre- 
paration had been made, and the representatives who 
declared it, refused to lay taxes for its support, and 
hurried home to take care of their popularity. Almost 
destitute of the first' means even for defensive, there 
could not be any preparation for ofi'ensive warfl^re that 
merited the name. With undisciplined, new levies, very 
few of whose officers had seen service; without any one 
department being organized, or any well arranged plan 
of a campaign, or operations commenced — defeat in the 
first instance was inevitable; — the miserable state of the 
finances, and the little confidence felt by the moneyed 
interest in their management, soon accumulated the most 
serious difficulties. We had, besides, been so long at 
peace, there was something so resounding and imposing 
in the great military and naval conflicts which had taken 
place in this era; — we had been so long bullied and in- 
jured by the rival powers, that many individuals distrust- 
ed our prowess, and believed that our enterprise was 
suited only to peaceful pursuits, and that we should 
be very unapt scholars in martial science. If then the 
federalists, when the war broke out, had established a 
correspondence with each other, for a uniform plan of 
proceeding; if they had continued to denounce the war, 
not for its wickedness, but for its rashness and impolicy; 
had they given the government the means they asked to 
carry it on effectively, and confined themselves to legi-- 
timate measures of opposition, to pointing out the mis- 



39 



man.igempnf, the improvidence which raehaced the 
country with ruin, they would have acquired a prodi- 
gious increase of strength, and perhaps might have come 
again into power. But with marvellous magnanimity as 
regarded party policy, they set themselves to oppose 
the current of national feeling, not the conduct of the 
administration ; they clamoured against the war itself, 
not the mismanagement of it, and they were so much in 
dread of the ambition of the cabinet at Washington, 
that they did every thing in their power to thwart the 
prosecution of the Avar, rather trusting for a peace to 
the forbearance of an arrogant grasping, irritated 
foreign power, than to an administration that had been 
driven into it, and were most anxious to get out of the 
ditficnlty. By this course, which paralyzed some im- 
portant operations, they alarmed many moderate men, 
who however they may happen to vote, care more for 
their country than their party ; and a very large 
number of others were disgusted and driven away by 
the anti-national tone, which was so foolishly and so 
frequently adopted. 

There was no concert between different parts of the 
country; the principles that were broached here, toge- 
ther with the tone of our newspapers and resolutions, 
destroyed all sympathy in the breasts of federalists in 
other states. Thus the occasion for renovating the 
federal party was lost, and the fragment of it which sub- 
sisted in the eastern section of the Union, occupied itself 
with more passion than foresight in opposing the national 
feeling, and struggling against the intrigues of a domestic 
faction, that was making use of the war to get the con- 
trol of the state governments; and although the pres- 
sure of the war was very severe upon this quarter, this 
was perhaps the most dreaded of all its calamities. 



I 



40 



You may, perhaps, think it inconsistent in me to sug- 
gest, that it was fortunrte that the occasion for restoring 
the federal party was lost; — you will therefore excuse 
a few words in explanation. So many distinguished 
leaders of the party were dead; it had so entirely run 
out, in many of the states, and such a load of obloquy 
had been unjustly heaped upon it, that even if it had 
been restored to power, the prejudices in many parts of 
the Union were so strong, that it could never have acted 
usefully for the nation. It was much better, that the 
party which had displaced it, and which had the popular 
prejudice in its favour, should gradually assume its 
principles, which were the original principles of our 
government. You will perceive my meaning without 
fui'ther illustration; but one point is too striking to be 
omitted. One of the great measures of the federal ad- 
ministration, one of the vital supports of this union at 
home and abroad, is the navy; — you know what a mass of 
jealousy and hatred was engendered against it; how 
many visionary unfounded statements were made both in 
speeches and writings; how resolutely it was doomed to 
destruction. The late war, one of the most fortunate, 
both in a foreign and domestic view, that any nation ever 
waged; which 1 believe to have been the most redeeming 
and salutary in its consequences to this nation — if it had 
done no other good, would have been of incalculable 
value, in showing the indispensable importance of this 
branch of defence, and the excellent materials we 
possess for it. Probably there is no subject on which 
the opinion of the public is now so unanimous; its increase 
and prosperity are favourite objects with the administra- 
tion and with the people, and there is no one to dissent; — 
but in the hands of the federal party, suspicion would 



41 



have watched every step, and its growth and efficiency 
would have been greatly retarded by opposition. 

During a long course of party animosity and aspersion, 
it had grown to be a matter of belief, that the administra- 
tion, in the management of our foreign relations, were 
entirely under the influence of France; the main proofs 
of which were brought from their avowed partiality 
and violent sympathy for the French Revolution. Long 
after, many who hailed its commencement with the most 
generous emotions, were disgusted with the course it 
took, and tilled with too just apprehensions of its 
wretched termination. This belief, naturall}-^ enough, 
produced a feeling in favour of the rival of France, more 
particularly when the existence of that rival seemed to be 
in the most imminent danger, and the power of France 
menaced the civilized world with subjection to military 
tyranny. A number of writers for a series of years had 
dwelt on the danger to which we were ultimately exposed 
by the prophesied supremacy of France.* Fear of that 



* The writings of Fislier Ames, one of the most accomplisheil 
orators tliat the eastern states have produced, had a decisive influence 
in this way. They gave a tone to almost all our newspaper 
essays for a long time. Mr. Ames had surrendered his mind to a 
theory, and, as men of genius are prone to do, pursued it in all its 
ramifications, till judgment was out of sight. There was a settled 
systematic conviction in his mind, of an inevitable, intrinsic princi- 
ple, of rapid deterioration in our institutions, and this produced a 
(rain of melancholy, gloomy forebodings, which, couched as they 
were in the most animated style, made a lasting impression. 
Having taken the deepest interest in public affairs at the period 
when efforts were made to involve our career with that of revolu- 
tionary France; feeling how certain and perhaps irretrievable would 
Lave been the evils of such an union ; having watched the crisis 
with an anxiety amounting almost to mental agony, and having had 
a very considerable sbare,by his persuasive eloquence,in preventiog 
4 



42 



power, rather than love of England, deeply perviide^ 
our political feelings; and the evils of war .were rendered 
insupportably galling, when they were supposed to be 
in any degree owing to the intrigues of a foreign despo- 
tism. You may think this illiberality disgraceful, until 
you recollect the miserable imputation so lavishly cast 
by the other side, of " British gold,'''' and then regret 
the common degradation of supposing our leading writers 
to be corrupt, an idea which arose from the mutual vio- 
lence of party. The disgrace of making such charges grew 
out of the phrensy that was spread over the world by the 
French Revolution. We may hope that, for the future, 
we shall respect ourselves too highly, to endure the 
license of similar accusations. 

The anti-national tone which was so frequently heard 
here, was generated by the arrogance and bigotry of 
party. Though it was well calculated to disgust those 
whose support would have been most useful, as well as 

it ; the feelings that were excited at the time imbued all his ideas, 
and led him into the great error of blending the systems of the 
French republic and our confederation together, though no two 
political systems could be more fundamentally different. With 
respect to the former, he was always right, and sometimes propheti- 
cally so, and with regard to the latter, almost invariably wrong. In 
his politics, there was a tincture of prejudice, infused by early 
associations with some of his connexions, who had been opposed 
to the revolution. As a public man, there was nothing coarse in his 
ambition, nothing sordid in his views ; but he liad too much genius 
and toolittle worldliness to make a very successful statesman. In 
private life he was the delight of his friends ; the amenity of his 
manrrers, the simplicity and integrity of his heart, the perennial 
sparkling brilliancy of bis mind, made his society a constant source 
of interest. In the frankness and courtesy of his intercourse, in the 
plainness and moderation of all his habits, in his ardent love of 
Hberty, he was a practical republican. 



43 



to give sonae colour to the charge of settled disaft'ectioii, 
more meaning was attached to it elsewhere, than it 
really possessed. Many who abused the conduct of 
the administration, till the cause of their country was 
involved in the disrespect, were led to it by the mere 
ill-temper of party, and much of this flippancy was 
stimulated by the wi<h to vex those, who under the 
magic of certain assumed names, were enjoying all the 
Aivour of government, and having cut off the majority 
from the pursuits of peare, deprived them of their share 
of the advantages to be derived from war, and condemned 
them to a mortifying and injurious inaction. As to the 
individuals who have real tory sympathies, the class is 
very small indeed, and obviously a mortuary one. 
Probably we shall not have an entirely unprejudiced 
feeling towards England, while there is any man among 
US who is older than the nation. A few years more will 
remove the remains of that generation who were once 
subject to a foreign sovereign, and who, often unaware of 
it, have some reference in all their feelings to that period, 
and to the struggle which terminated in our indepen- 
dence. Those of us who have been born since that event, 
and have never known any other government than this 
of our choice, can hardly realize the lingering influence 
of those prejudices, which were engendered by the 
animosities and predilections of our colonial existence. 
Most of those who were decided tories left the country, 
and long and literally have some of them lamented the 
mistake. Of those who yet remain among us, the vestiges 
of former times, the number 1 suspect is much smaller 
than even the most liberal minds would be apt to sup- 
pose. In most of these cases, it is the result of a vague 
prejudice, counteracted by local habit^ and attachments. 



14 



and without influence. A few years must destroy every 
trace of it ; time has thinned the ranks of the revolution- 
ary generation, and the remaining few of those gallant 
spirits who achieved our independence, and of the timid 
minds that opposed it, must soon be gathered to the 
bones of their fathers. 

The false ground, not only in a national, but in a party 
view, occupied by the federalists in the eastern states, 
was becoming more and more disadvantageous, exposing 
them inevitably to ultimate defeat. By the kind of 
opposition they had given to the war, public opinion was 
put into a course, which led, by a gradual progress, to the 
absurdity and mischief of an open resistance or separa- 
tion, and before it had come to this, the parly would have 
been completely dissolved. This was shown in the abor- 
tive Hartford convention. The leaders of the party ,by the 
line which had been followed, were driven into this unfor- 
tunate measure ; for in this case, as in many others, those 
who were supposed to lead, because they were placed in 
advance, were in reality driven. The ordinary modes of 
opposition to the administration in order to terminate the 
war, not having been resorted to originally, they who had 
so unadvisedly marked out a diflerent route, were called 
upon, as the pressure of suffering became greater, to 
relieve it by open resistance if necessary. To tem- 
porize and parry this violence of discontent, was all that 
would be done. The report of that convention showed 
no want of national feeling, and deprecated the idea of 
disunion. That they were sincere in these feelings, must 
indeed be admitted by every one, unless you will deny 
to individuals of acknowledged ability and long experi- 
ence, a deficiency of common sense, and even ordinary 
sat^acitv. For how could men who were not deficient in 



45 



these, with no other footing tlian the shifluig sanJ bank 
of party, which the current of public feeling was 
continually washing away, and which wc have since seen 
iias completely submerged those who represented what 
was considered the most solid and steady of these states ; 
I ask, how such men could expect to take any measures 
that would have led to a dissolution of the Union, or a 
civil war ; at the first expectation of which they would 
have been abandoned by their followers almost en masse, 
and when they would have been the first, if not the only 
\ ictims ? These transactions furnished a memorable 
lesson, into what insuperable ditliculties a wrong system 
\vill conduct men of even the greatest capacity; neutraliz- 
ing all their powers, causing a certain loss of popularity, 
and subjecting them to the suspicion of sinister designs, 
at the very time they are honeslly labourino^ to avoid 
great calamities. 

The false direction taken at the commencement of 
the war, was partly owing to the federalists having 
given, for a long period, an almost exclusive attention to 
the concerns of their own particular state. In a free 
country the minority get the light only by reflection; 
they are never directly shone upon, and their views of 
public allairs become confined and broken. A seat in 
the national legislature was to them a matter of in- 
difference, when they had lost all influence over 
measures, when tliey were proscribed as to every 
branch of public service, and as their employment 
verged more and jnore towards a captious and in- 
effectual opposition. They became satisfied if they 
could maintain themselves in their state legislatures ; 
with an occasional notice of the affairs of the nation, 
contained in the answer to a governor's speech, or in 
4* 



46 



some high sounding, angry, insane" resolutions." How* 
ever important these legislatures may be to the welfare 
of the people, and no one can doubt that they are of 
the highest importance, not merely to local interests, 
but to our existence as a free nation ; there is still a 
subordinate interest in their deliberations, and the sub- 
jects of them are confined within narrow limits. Their 
management too is greatly inferior to the practice of 
congress both in dignity, -and security against surprise, 
in the passing of acts. It is almost impossible to get 
through a bill in congress surreptitiously; it is almost 
impossible to prevent its being done occasionally in the 
state legislatures, and sometimes from the purest inten- 
tions towards the public service. Though the state 
legislature is the common school of preparation for 
congress, it may be doubted whether it is a useful one, 
and more than doubted, if the apprenticeship be a long 
one. The delegate is prone to make the mistake of 
the young attorney in Rhode Island, who on being 
chosen into its legislature, talked about, " being' engaged 
in public life." The topics for discussion are so re- 
stricted, that the mind accommodates itself to small 
objects. The regulation of a county court, the loca- 
tion of a road, or the care of our favourite alewife, 
are the chief concerns to occupy attention. Sometimes 
indeed a mighty genius arises, who in a wide scope 
of reform, attempts to secure the applause of his con- 
stituents, with a grand scheme of retrenchments, which 
by cutting down the enormous salaries of the half 
dozen clerks who have grown gray in the public service, 
may save to a state with 800,000 inhabitants, twelve, or 
even fourteen hundred dollars a year ! Another may 
propose to get rid of the shocking scandal which arises 



17 



ilia Christian country, from using the present pagan 
names of the months and days, so well known to he of 
heathenish derivation. Such schemes, to be sure, do 
not always succeed, but they sIjow the dangerous am- 
bition which sometimes lurks in our legislatures. 

Connecticut aflbrds an example of this narrowing 
influence of local policy. There is no state where the 
common, and many of the higher branches of education, 
are more easily obtained; there is none where instruction 
is more generally diffused. No one will deny that its 
inhabitants possess both wit and acuteness. Yet among 
all their able, y)ublic men, there is hardly one, witli 
the exception of those who have been transplanted, who 
has shown a mind capable of extensive range, or that 
was not bigoted to, or fettered by local considerations. 
This might be in some degree owing to the want of a 
large town in the state, where through the intercourse 
and collision of cultivated minds, brought together from 
a distance, a system of generalizing might be produced 
on the ruins of small prejudices and diminutive appre- 
hensions. Their government vibrated between two 
villages, and a man could not be trusted as a delegate 
for more than six months. There was a sort of habi- 
tual, pervading police, made up of Calvinistic inquisi- 
tion and village scrutiny, that required a very delete- 
rious subserviency from all candidates for public life. 
A very conceited intolerance held opinion in subjec- 
tion. Superior minds were obliged to come to inferior 
ones, till they lost the y)ower of rising to, and sustaining 
an elevation, whence they could discern the bearing 
and relations of distant objects. We have done better 
in Massachusetts, and may boast of having produced 
some accomplished and powerful statesmen. This may 



48 



have been owing in part to our having a capital, the 
seat of the state government, and which is the natural 
centre, not of its own state alone, but of the neigh- 
bouring territories. A very active and extensive 
foreign commerce has made it a mart where much in- 
formation is collected, and where many strangers resort. 
A greater variety of pursuit has enlarged the sphere of 
observation and diminished the influence of local pre- 
judice. The University in its vicinity has fostered the 
taste for literature and science, and it has always pos- 
sessed a more numerous class of cultivated society, than 
cities of the same, or sometimes much greater size. 
These circumstances, among others, have tended to pre- 
serve us from that provincial atmosphere, under which 
every thing, save plants of common growth, is blighted 
or dwindles. 

It will be obvious to you, that the position of parties 
here, being wholly nominal, and entirely disconnected 
with any general system, must speedily change, and be 
differently compounded and designated. The deepest 
apathy prevails in regard to all national measures ; the 
debates of congress are hardly more known than those 
of the British parliament: the utmost extent of soli- 
citude goes to preserve a preponderance in certain 
local elections. The federalists no longer pretend any 
opposition to the national administration ; their ap- 
pellation has therefore lost all former party meaning. 
If it had not, it would be perfectly absurd to suppose 
that one column could remain, neither supporting nor 
supported, when all the others had been thrown down, 
and their materials combined anew. The democratic 
party are no longer opposed to the federal government, 
since it is administered by their friends. The politicaf 



19 



iliscortl in Massachusetts will subside iii one of two 
ways. If the majority maintains a resolute, local intole- 
rance, while it demands a catholic spirit in the national 
administration, it will be destroyed by the open defec- 
tion of those who may wish to make a merit by so 
doing, or by the quick succession of others, who are 
not fond of strife at any time, and disgusted with its 
continuance, when it is founded on petty personalities, 
or senseless hatred, and is no longer necessary on prin- 
ciple. But if this majority, acting in a spirit of mag- 
nanimous policy, selects frankly some of its opponents, 
places a full proportion of them in the various munici- 
pal and civil offices, it will bring about a reconciliation 
that will put an end to all opposition; — to the semblance 
of it, against the general government, from one party, 
and to the reality of it, against the state, fi'om another, 
and the present lists of proscription will be finally 
closed. Parties will thus be broken up; they will 
indeed soon form anew; it is necessary for the preser- 
vation of freedom that they should exist ; but it is 
equally important that they should not exist too long in 
the same form, lest they become so deep rooted and 
grow to such a height, as to overshadow the constitu- 
tion. 

I have now terminated this very ungrateful discussion, 
of endeavouring to exhibit some of the errors on both 
sides, in the late exasperated contention of parties, 
which has been protracted for so many years. My ob- 
ject in part was to show you that the conduct of those 
who were opposed to the late war, and which excited 
so much surprise and odium in other states, was suscep- 
tible of some palliation. The course that was pursued 
offered the most irritating provocation to a majority in 



50 



this section of the Union ; and if that majority went 
beyond the bounds of temper and discretion in meeting 
it, a feeling of magnanimity shouhl dispose every one, 
•vvhen the conllict is over, and the passions have cooled, 
to a mutual oblivion. Let me refresh myself after the 
irksome task of reviewing these transient bickerings, 
these evanescent quarrels, with a few reflections on the 
noble condition and magnificent prospects of our com- 
mon countrjf. In the contemplation of these all party 
feelings will be forgotten. 

In considering the prosperity of the United States, and 
its daily, hourly extension, it is difficult to keep within 
the limits of sober calculation. Its results begin to de- 
velope themselves so rapidly, that we are easily led 
away from fiicts and figures, into vague though vivid 
reveries, upon the future amount of the population, and 
the vast resources that will be within its command. But 
in examining the political and civil institutions, which 
regulate this fortunate country, whatever pride we may 
feel from their liberality and wisdom, we can discuss them 
with more precision and calmness. This letter would 
swell into a volume with only a superficial examination 
of these subjects; but you will be patient under a page 
or two more, containing only a few allusions to them. 

While reasoning upon our government, it is necessary 
to discard many impressions that have been made by opin- 
ions and theories, derived from history, which presents an 
identity of names, and no similarity of circumstances; 
from the rise and fall of states which existed on differ- 
ent principles; from republics that bore no resemblance 
to ours. There is, in truth, nothing in the annals of the 
world like our federal republics, composed of a number 
of representative democracies, differing in someminut« 



51 



(jircunistiuiccs lor local convenience, yet having ti)e 
same basis of civil and political rights and duties. All 
these bodies move within certain spheres, and the 
checks against any deviation from their orbit are innu- 
merable, not only within themselves, but from the 
otiiers. In this political orrery every thing is so calcu- 
lated, that when a neAv star comes in sight, it is imme- 
diate'y subjected to the same influence, and tends to 
increase the harmony and strength of the whole. Many 
able men have had their fears about the durability of 
our system, not as vulgar malice would insinuate from 
enmity to it, but from very strong attachment and exces- 
sive fears in consequence. In arguments on this subject, 
when other reasons fail, we are commonly suffocated 
with some such truisms as these. — human nature is ever 
the same; men will always be governed by their passions, 
&c. Yet after having recovered our breath, let us ask 
for a parallel case; show us one example of a republic 
like ours having failed, or having ever existed at all. 
How idle it is to talk of the Grecian or Roman republics; 
in what did they resemble our system? The miniature 
community of San Marino; the Dutch republic, compos- 
ed of a stadtholder, an hereditary and a moneyed aristo- 
cracy, or " a free, imperial Hanseatic city," made up of 
commission merchants, brokers, and their appendages, 
and who could " cover their territory with their shirts," 
might as well be brought forward. The exterior form 
of ancient republics was imposing, but the grand im- 
provement of modern political science — representation — 
which has been brought to such high perfection in this 
countr}^ which is felt not only in the great veins and 
arteries, but exhibited in the very capillaries of the 
state, was most imperfectly known, and partially prac- 



62 



tised. The moderns have never yet equalled the Apol- 
lo or the Venus; yet notwithstanding the excellence of 
those ideal forms, the ancients were ignorant of the cir- 
culation of the blood: and there is not a greater difference 
in the degree of science discovered in the exquisite, 
superficial beauty of a statue by the hand of Phidias, or 
in one of those wonderful anatomical statues from the 
school of Florence, than there is between the mechan- 
ism and polity of the Grecian and American states. 

The advanced state of the representative system, and 
its extensive application here, which some civilians, 
reasoning on the example of nations under different 
circumstances, have considered a principle of weakness 
and ultimate mischief, are in reality the great basis of 
our national strength and security. There is no nation 
that can boast of similar advantages; even in England, 
where the system is perhaps best understood, how 
broken, irregular, and unequal it is in its organization, 
and in its exercises how subject to the foulest abuses. A 
parliamentary election in that country more nearly re- 
sembles the license of the saturnalia, than the solemn 
act of freemen conferring the most precious of all 
authority. In this country every thing is delegated; 
the practice of representation extends its ramifications 
through every part of society. The frequency and 
universality of election, give a facility and habit of 
judging to the electors, who, though commonly subject- 
ed to the dictates of party, are not imperiously so, and 
without their own consent. Even here it is the same 
principle that governs; the choice with whom to act is 
always open. This principle is every where in action, 
from villages to cities, counties, states, up to the conf<^- 
deration; from the nearest village officer up to the Presi 



53 



>lent of the United States, almost every species of 
authority is the result of election. The principle is 
varied in its action, according to regular fixed rules, and 
is thus prevented from becoming unwieldy. The 
infinite checks against the abuse of power, the unre- 
stricted opening for talent, and the precedence accorded 
to it, the publicity of all transactions, the wide diffusion 
of intelligence, and the inevitable influence of public 
sentiment, render this matured scheme of representa- 
tion the main support of our hberty, happiness and 
strength. 

One of the objections that was made to the durability 
of our republic, was the very trite one, that it was not 
fit for a country of such extent, and that only a small ter- 
ritory could endure a republican form. In that masterly 
commentary on our constitution, The Federalist, it was 
suggested, with as much sagacity as originality, that this 
idea was erroneous; that where a small republic had 
existed, it was owing more to external circumstances 
than to its intrinsic strength, and that an extensive coun- 
try was better suited to maintain a republic, than a small 
one. Time has already developed the soundness of this 
opinion, and few now can doubt that the extent of our 
country is one great cause of security for its free go- 
vernment ; that the accessions which have been made to 
the confederation have added to its strength, and that 
its vigour and adhesiveness must continue for a long time 
to increase. 

One powerful security of our republic is, its being a 
confederation, the extent of which renders a consolida- 
tion impossible : this magnificent organization is alone 
sufficient to render its authors illustrious. Compare 
it with any ancient or modern confederations ; with the 



54 



Peloponnesian league, the cantons of Switzerland, or the 
federal system of Germany, and how infinitely superior 
is its constitution. The several states, exercising a so- 
vereignty for all their immediate and intimate concerns, 
save the general government from all trouble and respon- 
sibility about their local interests, from the danger of be- 
ing corrupted, by having an excess of patronage, and the 
dissatisfaction and broils that would be created in its dis- 
tribution; while the citizen is guaranteed against the nu- 
merous delays or injudicious measures, that would be in- 
cident to a distant exercise of authority. The manner in 
which these states are represented in congress, varying 
in form, yet perfectly harmonizing in spirit, is another 
source of security. The innumerable checks that are 
given by the sovereignty of the states against the en- 
croachments of ambition in the general government, are 
certain in their operation. An arrogant, ambitious cabi- 
net, might disregard a minority in the capitol, but if 
their designs were dangerous, this minority would find a 
triumphant support in the state governments. Yet how 
absurd and hopeless is an open resistance in any of 
these state governments to the federal government; the 
moment an attempt is made, it is checked in its turn by 
the minority within itself; which minority, if resistance be 
persevered in, soon terminates it, by becoming the ma- 
jority. The state and general governments thus mutu- 
ally assure each other, by forming alternately a point of 
support against a designing or mistaken policy. 

This has been remarkably shown in the difficulty of 
altering the constitution, which though it may receive 
amendments, can only be so from the decided sentiments 
of a large majority of the nation. The process neces- 
sary for this purpose is replete with safety to the object 



:j3 



of it. Many ol" the states have tried their hand at this 
game, or rather certain individuals, feeling a call to be 
reformers, have stimulated their legislatures to make 
the attempt; which is calmly, and almost as a matter of 
course, extinguished by the others. 

That the union of the states has increased in strength 
as it has grown older, there can be no doubt ; and that 
the accession of new states, for the present at least, has 
a tendency to confirm it, seems equally certain. When 
General Hamilton was asked to mention a supposable 
case, where the Union would be in danger, he gave as an 
answer, that supposing a combination between Massachu- 
setts and Virginia, to oppose any particular measures, 
should take place, it would certainly create very serious 
embarrassment, if it did not destroy the Union. This 
was twenty years ago. Admitting the same case to happea 
now, the mischief doubtless would be great, but the ul- 
timate danger is certainly lessened. The other states 
have acquired greater strength, and the relative impor- 
tance of these two is diminished, and diminishing every 
day, though both are increasing in wealth and population. 
They are minds of small caliber, which boast now of 
belonging to Virginia or to Massachusetts; these narrow, 
local, factious pretensions, are abashed; they are re- 
placed by the more noble, generous claim, to the na- 
tional appellation of an American. Indeed the mutual ad- 
vantages of the Union are so continually developing, 
and the independence of the states is so secure against 
the danger of consolidation, that nothing short of an uni- 
versal phrenzy could dissolve the republic. One of the 
events, and indeed the only one now talked of which would 
produce that misfortune, would be the change of the 
seat of government, and keeping it in a moveable state. 



56 



If this course of policy should be pursued, an establish- 
ment of wagons would then be the only means of 
adapting it to a shifting location, answerable to the 
imaginary centre of the nation, whose circle is con- 
tinually spreading with the flood of emigration. But it 
is said, the western states are rapidly increasingin popu- 
lation, and after a second or third additional census, 
they will have the majority of numbers, and will carry 
the seat of government on the other side of the moun- 
tains. This would be such a dangerous evil to the At- 
lantic states, that a division might indeed be the conse- 
quence. Now putting out of the question the influence 
of all reason and policy in the case ; that it is of little 
consequence to the interior states to have the seat of 
government among them, because the objects of the 
federal government are almost wholly external ; that 
there is no danger to be guarded against, except from 
the east ; and that if this government were not within 
reach of the sea-coast, its foreign relations would meet 
with so much delay, and its distance from the scene 
of .operations, where any energy could appear, would be 
30 great, that the Atlantic states might be visited with 
the most serious calamities before it could interpose ; 
putting all considerations of this nature out of the ques- 
tion, and there are many unanswerable ones that are 
obvious, let us see what other impediments may arise 
to such a change. In the first place, the means of com- 
munication between the western and Atlantic states is 
every day becoming easier. Before this contemplated 
majority is attained, there will be another state on the 
Gulf of Mexico, between the Sabine and the Colorado; 
another on the Red River, one on the Arkansas, on the 
Osage, the Kanses and the Platte, besides two or three oa 



57 



the Missouri, and one in the North West Territory. 
Now where is the new seat of government to be ? Not 
at Chillicothe, which used to be talked of when the 
western settlements were in their infancy; that is already 
quite out of sight. It is difficult to say where it would 
be, probably on the Osage, or the Kanses. But in the 
jnean time the state of Ohio will have become opposed 
to the measure. It is easier for them to go to Washing- 
ton, if they cannot have it at Chillicothe : iMichigan has 
the same feeling : Kentucky and Tennessee are nearer 
home at Washington than to go down their rivers and up 
the Missouri. Besides, the unanimity now prevailing ia 
the western states cannot last ; if they continue free, 
they will be split into parties, which would have a bear- 
ing on this question, and perhaps this very question 
itself might destroy this unanimity. Those states also, 
by the time this question is called up, will have got rid of 
their giddiness, and reached a degree of maturity, that 
will cause them to act on questions of great national 
moment, with an enlarged, sober, dignified policy, and 
not be governed by a spirit of rash, heedless vapouring, 
the vulgar consequences of sudden growth and new- 
made fortune. This is all speculation ; but you will 
listen with complacence to any thing that can be said 
against even the prospect of so great an evil as separa- 
tion, wliich seems to be more improbable every day. 
That it will never take place I do not mean to assert, 
but I believe most contidently that it is very distant. 
When the future Pacific states come to be represented 
in congress, and a member cannot travel to his home 
and back in the interval of the sessions, it may be diffi- 
cult to get over the inconvenience; but this is an affair for 
posterity. We can only endeavour to leave for their use 
6* 



58 



such regulations, such motives for attachments, and such 
experience as may assist them in their dehberations. 

When to our civil and political advantages, we add 
the benefits we owe to our extensive limits, that our 
country comprises every climate, from that in which Al- 
pine plants may be found on the tide water, to one 
which ripens the sugar cane ; that all the productions 
between these extremes may be cultivated freely and 
exchanged without restriction, and that the industry of 
man, spread over such a large portion of the earth, 
will at no distant period supply every want : while this 
industry existing under one banner, fettered by no cus- 
tom-house impediments or restrictions, is enabled, by 
every where directing its efforts after the most benefi- 
cial manner, to throw the vast capabilities of this im- 
mense territory into one common stock, how incalcula- 
ble the amount of prosperity that will be created ! 
When we consider that enterprise is unbounded, and 
constantly excited by successful examples, that proper- 
ty is secure, the person protected, and opinion without 
arbitrary control ; that the restless may go when and 
where they will, and every man in the pursuit of fame, 
fortune or amusement, may range unquestioned through- 
out these wide domains, what a prospective accumu- 
lation of glor}', happiness and power is here displayed ! 

Much of this is owing to focal position, but it would be" 
false modesty to deny, that much of it is owing to our- 
selves, to the patriotism,integrity, ability and moderation 
of our public men, and to the intelligence and morality 
of our citizens at large. Our character and condition 
attract daily more and more of the attention of the 
world. The late war was productive of inestimable 
benefit in this ^ay; it made us known and respected by 



59 



other nations. Our youth and our distance had made us 
little regarded, often misrepresented, and very falsely 
appreciated. Dragged into war at the end of a long 
quarrel, which had desolated every nation in Europe, 
and given military glory an unfortunate superiority over 
all others, we soon gave decisive proofs that peace had 
not made us timid, nor liberty ungovernable. The vul- 
gar glory which arises from gallantry and skill in war, 
we showed ourselves capable of attaining, not by an equi- 
vocal struggle with a weak nation, but in a hardy con- 
flict with the strongest. Foreigners who see us abroad, 
or visit us at home, estimate us more justly, since re- 
cent events have dissipated so many prejudices. The 
old routine of calumny begins to be discontinued, and 
though some exaggeration may grow out of the re-ac- 
tion, we shall hereafter be better understood. En- 
lightened strangers see our country in a favourable, but 
a true light, and are exempt from the bias which is given 
by party passions. One of this class, who after having 
reigned for some years as a sovt reign over some of the 
fairest portions of Europe, and now resides in this country 
with i)hilosophic contentment, and all the simplicity of 
a private gentleman, remarked to me in conversation, 
" This is a happy nation, and in the most fortunate cir- 
" cumstances : some persons think you have not go- 
" vernment enough; others, that you have too much ; 
■ they are both wrong ; evei'y thing is as it should be, 
•' and it is the happiest country in the world for persons 
" like me, who neither wish to command, nor to obey." 
It is natural that the citizens of such a nation should 
exult in their national character. It is impossible that 
men who are reared in a country, governed on more 
elevated principles than any other ; one which supposes 



60 



a higher degree of virtue and intelligence in its inhabi- 
tants ; where every man may enjoy not only civil liber- 
ty, but the highest political immunities, — where there is 
no titular inferiority, and no exclusive privileges; where 
talent and virtue are the only honourable distinctions, and 
open the way to the highest magistracy, it is impossible 
such men should not be proud, and £;lory in the character 
of republicans. The vulgar and the insolent will be apt 
to show this offensively to other nations ; but the man of 
education, who knows how to reconcile the esteem of 
others with self respect, while careful not to offend 
foreigners with arrogance or vanity, and allowing them 
all the advantages resulting from a high degree of 
polished refinement, and the establishment of many 
time-honoured institutions, will still secretly feel that 
his national condition is the noblest in the world. 



LETTER III. 

Religion. 

My dear Friend, 

Though I could not entirely clear your brow from 
that expression of reproachful anxiety, which would 
come over it. when the situation of religion here was a 
subject of our conversation, yet you were willing to smile 
at the ludicrous denunciations of some of your fellow- 
citizens, and of others farther south, against the heretical 
sects in this quarter, while they themselves never passed 
the threshold of any church. Even the orthodox among 
us, if they are not partisans, think their friends in other 
states, who hold the same opinions with themselves, a 



61 



little bigoted in their judgment of our Unitarians. It ia 
indeed difficult to feel any prejudice against the theory 
of people, ivhose practice embraces every virtue, and 
we perhaps become insensible to the danger of certain 
tenets in their ultimate consequences, by the constant 
exhibition of the most benevolent virtues in their present 
followers. Many of these who go to places of public 
worship from motives not very dissimilar t|Mhose of the 
lady in your city, who took a pew in the unitarian cha- 
pel, " because it was a nice, cool place, to carry the chil- 
dren," are dangerous examples of strict morality and 
active virtue, connected with every unsound and limited 
notions of abstract doctrine. In attempting to give you 
some account of the present state of religion in Massachu- 
setts, you must recollect that 1 am no theologian, and 
that I give you only a superficial sketch, unbiassed by 
any sectarian prejudice. 

The consideration of the state of religion here is 
attended with peculiar interest, since the first colonists, 
driven by persecution to seek a shelter for their princi- 
ples, crossed the ocean to maintain them, and laid the 
foundations of this state as a religious commonwealth. 
They acted in the spirit of, and considered themselves 
as living under the sway of a theocracy, and this of 
course accompanied with the highest degree of zeal and 
intolerance in conduct,parity of manners, austerity in dis- 
cipline, and the severest tenets of faith. They were rigid 
Calvinists in belief; puritans in regard to all the amuse- 
ments of the world; obstinate dissenters from all cere- 
monies in worship; jealous independents of all ecclesias- 
tical government, and most devout abhorrers of every 
other sect. The cruel character and appalling ferocity 
of this religious creed, never was better justified and 



62 



strengthened by circumstances ; they might naturally 
believe in a system, which transformed that Deity, who 
is the fountain of mercy and God of all grace, into a 
being of mysterious vengeance and cruelty, when they 
found themselves, though living in the strictest morality 
and devoted to religion, called upon to endure the 
greatest sufferings, exposed to an untried climate and 
howling wil^m-ness, the coil of the rattlesnake at their 
heels, and tne tomahawk of the savage at their heads. 

It was not a sudden impulse, but a long course of 
preparation, that drove them to cross the Atlantic; the 
process was gradual that hardened their feelings to every 
thing but their religious attachments, and made them 
prefer those to every othor consideration. They were as 
ready to suffer martyrdom as to inflict it; the time indeed 
had gone by when the refractory were condemned to 
the flames in this world. But martyrdom, according to the 
fashion of the day — proscription, imprisonment and exile — 
they first sufiered themselves, and then inflicted on others; 
they were the victims of intolerance and ecclesiastical 
tyranny; and the moment it was in their power exer- 
cised both. Stimulated as tjiey believed by the love of 
God in both cases, they endured, and they made others 
endure. From the closest convictions of conscience, 
having sacrificed fortune, friends and country, in sup- 
port of their principles, any permission to differ would 
hare been considered a criminal levity and inconsistency. 
Persecution was to them a lesson not of charity, but of 
perseverance, and the system they adopted was as 
rigid and exclusive, as that from which they had fled. 

Stern and zealous as they were, they could not be 
wholly insensible to the reflections that were cast upon 
them, for thus following a system of oppression in matters 



63 



of religion, against which in others they complained so 
justly. It was answered in excuse, that the case was 
materially difl'erent ; that they had been driven from 
their home for want of conformity, and had fled to this 
wilderness to enjoy their freedom ; that they had 
purchased the soil, and established a community for the 
express purpose of worshipping God in simplicity and 
truth; that they enticed no one to join them, nor wished 
for any but those who could unite with them in their faith 
and practice. That under these circumstances, when 
they had sought a new world to establish their own forms 
of worship, and to renew the faith and purity of the 
primitive church, it was excessively hard that they should 
be interrupted by the intrusion of other sects, who 
voluntarily came among them to create jealousy and 
disunion: that they had a right, according to the laws they 
had made, to punish and drive away these intruders, and 
all those of their own faith who became apostates or fell 
off from the ordinances of their church. They wanted 
none to join them, except they were of the same com- 
munion, and they felt themselves called upon by the 
principles they professed, and all the sacrifices they had 
made for them, to preserve their community from the 
continuation of false teachers, and the danger of religious 
dissentioo. 

Their hatred of Roman Catholics was an abhorrence, 
confirmed by all their prejudices — some of them indeed, 
too well-founded, of the age in which they lived. Their 
prayers and sermons were seldom without some impreca- 
tion against them : their opposition to episcopacy was 
sharpened by the actual sufferings they had drawn upon 
themselves for non-conformity : their animosity against 
Quakers was embittered by scorn for the mad extrava- 



64 



gances of some of that sect ; their spiritual democracy^ 
by their abrogation of the priesthood under every 
form, and their contempt of all human learning and ac- 
quirements in teaching the duties of religion. This 
was touching our ancestors in very susceptible points. 
They had abjured the proud hierarchy at home, but had 
established a kind of one here, in which power was not 
less jealous, nor subordination less rigid, because the 
gradations were fewer and less ostentatious. There 
were wide chasms between those who were not in full 
communion, the communicants, the deacons, and the 
pastors ; besides the precedence that was awarded in 
this latter class to greater talents. The denunciation of 
learning excited indignation among men, who considered 
this, next to rehgion, the first object of their care, and 
this too mainly on the ground, that it would serve the 
interests of the former. They had among them many 
individuals who were men of profound learning, distin- 
guished scholars of the English universities, and who || 
could not endure that those acquirements should be 
scoffed at, which had cost them unremitting toil, and 
consumed the prime of their life to acquire. 

Permit me, however, to remark to you, that their 
conduct towards the Quakers has been misrepresented, 
and excited an odium in that sect, which would have 
been less strong, if the provocations that were given had 
been more generally known. A farmer among them 
told a friend of mine who was with the army in the Jer- 
seys in 1776, that we had never been able to raise wheat 
in Massachusetts since we hung the Quakers; and possibly 
this belief may exist with some to this day. But the 
executions for the crime of witchcraft were a deplora- 
ble delusion, the stain of which cannot indeed be effaced, 



65 



but which equally disgraces the annals ol' France, 
Enghmd, and other countries; and in some of them similar 
crimes have been perpetrated at a later period and under 
circumstances that render them even more inexcusable. 
But the 'Quakers who annoyed our ancestors, were very 
different from the mild and benevolent Friends of our 
times. The former were stubborn and contumelious 
fanatics, extravagant and wild in their tenets and actions, 
setting at nought the dictates of common sense, and the 
comm.on decencies of life. Some idea of this may be 
formed from the following anecdote, as related by an 
early historian. " Two women (of that sect) stark naked 
as ever they were born, came into our public assemblies, 
and they were (baggages that they were) adjudged unto 
the whipping post, for that piece of devilism." A similar 
outrage, if it were perpetrated now, would probably meet 
with as harsh treatment. 

It was a fortunate circumstance, that the limits of the 
colony were so narrow towards the south ; as those who 
would not conform to the system established here, could 
in one day easily obtain a refuge without the Massachu- 
setts or Connecticut jurisdiction. The small state of 
Rhode-Island, comprising the fine island of that name, 
and a strip from each of the contiguous states, offered 
an asylum to the persecuted of all descriptions, and by 
drawing off all who were of a different belief from tho 
creed established in the adjoining territories, contributed 
greatly to that remarkable unanimity which made the 
congregational Calvinistic churches ofMassachusetts and 
Connecticut for so long a period not only the prevailing, 
but almost Ihe only church existing within the limits. 
The celebrated Roger Williams, the founder of Rhode- 
Island, was u man of a liberal, enlightened mind, and 



66 



upright, humane character ; to whom we ought to ren 
der justice, now with more eagerness, as he was calumnia- 
ted greatly in former times. Rhode-Island thus settled, 
became, as an early historian expresses it, a perfect 
" colony of heretical sects ;" and the entire toleration 
that prevailed, which was itideed extraordinary in that 
age, filled with astonishment the intolerant champions 
of orthodoxy, who thought such a state of things must 
soon draw down destruction on itself. It was, indeed, 
difficult to organize a society out of such discordant 
materials; and perfect freedom on matters of religion, 
which was salutary, was, perhaps, at that time, inevitably 
blended with laxity in other concerns, that had a 
deleterious influence on the morals of the people. 

Having thus a neighbouring colony to which persons 
of other sects could easily resort, our ancestors kept 
their religious state without contamination from those 
who were out of the pale of their church. They were 
constantly recruited by dissenters from England, who 
were induced to abandon a country where they were 
held in contempt, if not oppression, to join their bre- 
thren who were at the head of a colony. A correspond- 
ence from sympathy was naturally kept up, and a peo- 
ple who were always republicans, rejoiced at the estab- 
lishment of the tyrannical English commonwealth, which 
placed their friends in power, and gratified them in the 
protection of what they conscientiously believed to be 
the pure, undefiled worship of God. Of course their sub- 
mission to the Stuarts, while that luckless family was on the 
throne, though respectful in terms, was never cordial in 
feeling; their religious and political tenets both forbade 
it. They also early laid a solid foundation, in the es- 
tablishment of the college at Cambridge, for perpetuating 



67 



their influence, and rendering it respectable. Such indeed 
was their reputation for learning and piety, that they 
were resorted to for clergymen fron. the churches in 
other colonies of the continent, as well as from the West 
Indies. Their system engaged many principles in its 
support, and by its great unity of action, combined with 
the concurring causes already mentioned, enjoyed a 
fair promise of perpetuity. The ambitious adhered to 
it, because it was the certain and chief means of civil 
influence, while a purer impulse secured the zealous 
support of piety. 

This remarkable unity, this almost exclusive existence 
of a single sect, was liable, however, in the natural course 
of events, to be broken by the intrusion of other forms, 
as actually happened. The Episcopalians began to obtain 
a footing towards the close of the seventeenth century. 
It was natural that the crown should favour their estab- 
lishments, to make religion an engine of state in the 
colonies, as it was at home; most of the officers they 
appointed were of this persuasion. After the country 
became settled, and began to develope the means of com- 
merce, many of the emigrants, when persecution had 
ceased, were of a class who removed with a view of bet- 
tering their temporal condition, and some of this class,who 
belonged to the established church, increased the Episco- 
pal churches here. These churches were always respec- 
table, though not numerous. Those gentlemen, whose 
sympathies or interests made them royalists before the 
revolution, were generally of this church; and there was 
something aristocratic in the refinement and courtesy in 
its forms, simple as they are, which attracted those who 
were repelled by the prudish, starch demeanour, and 
democratic spirit of the dissenting churches. They 



68 



never formed, however, more than a seventh of the con 
gregations in Boston, and a much less proportion in other 
parts of New-England. 

The Quakers also, who had not been entirely eradica- 
ted, obtained a secure and undisturbed footing when the 
agitation of early dissentions had subsided. Their trou- 
blesome fanaticism gradually ceased, and the violent ani- 
mosity they had excited, ceased with it. They built, 
and still retain a house of M'orship in Boston, but which 
has been closed for a long series of years, and it is a lit- 
tle singular that in this town there should not be a suffi- 
cient number of Friends to form a small congregation. 
They are scattered over almost every part of the state; , 
more commonly engaged in commerce and manufactures 
than in agriculture; some of them opulent, and all of 
4:hem reputable. 

The Baptists have greatly increased of late years, and 
are now one of the most numerous sects. Till a recent 
period, there was something of the primitive congrega- 
tional domination still perceptible in Massachusetts, 
though it was more in appearance than reality. Of 
course, so long as any semblance remained, that the 
government of the stale leaned towards a particular 
church, the pernicious alliance of politics and religion 
was sure to follow. A political minority was eager to 
sympathize with a religious one; and their grievances, 
whether fancied or real, led to a union in opposition, and 
this influence has been extensively shown. Fortunately, 
however, but little animosity has been created; for the 
most extravagant party exaggeration could make out 
very slender cases for complaint. The Baptists grew 
more moderate when perfect toleration was established; 
and a few eminent teachers among them gave them more 



69 



dignity. The learning and abilily of some of their preach- 
ers in England has made them tlie most respectable of 
all the dissenters there, and this circumstance has had a 
useful influence upon them herCjb}' elevating their views, 
rather to improve themselves, than to increase their 
numbers. Among our proselyting sects, they may be 
considered the most respectable. 

The Methodists are dispersed over the eastern states, 
with two churches in this capital. Their standing, in 
Massachusetts at least, is less respectable and more 
precarious than most of the other sects. Their na- 
sal whinings, camp meetings, and itinerant preachers, 
are not congenial to the tastes of the community. The 
rational and sedate are disgusted; the fervid and zealous 
have a resource in some of the churches of other sects; 
and the people generally are fond of a stead^-^ con- 
nexion with a pastor who is devoted to them. The 
wandering course of the Metliodist preachers, their 
strange assemblies in the fields, and the call for violent 
enthusiastic excitement in their worship, is not suited to 
our climate or situation. Such a sect is better calculated 
for regions where religion comes periodically, like the 
fever and ague, than for those whore it is a healthful 
regular pulsation of the heart, producing a mild worship 
of the beneficent Father of the world, perennial as his 
mercies. 

There are several other sects to be found among u*, 
but they arc not of suflicient importance to enumerate. 
Last of all came the Roman Catholics ; and few events 
of a subordinate kind were more remarkable than this. 
The foundation- of a Catholic church in Boston, could 
only be surpassed by devoting a chamber in the Vatican 
♦'^ a Protestant chapel. Our ancestors had a tenfold 
6* 



70 



horror of the church of Rome ; they first seceded from 
the Enghsh church, because they suspected some of the 
prelates of a leaning to popery. All the prejudices and 
fears that could be produced from a junction of political 
jealousy and religious bigotry, they brought with 
them to these shores, and carefully nourished. The 
troubles created by the Indian wars, which were stimu- 
lated by the French in Canada, kept their animosity 
alive, and the Prince of darkness himself was hardly 
more an object of horror to them than a Jesuit. They 
preached and prayed most stoutly and frequently against 
the scarlet lady of Babylon, against the antichrist of 
Rome, and even down to tbe last generation, used all the 
trite terms of vituperation that were so often applied to 
the Pope. Their invectives against him were so well 
known, that a gentleman of Boston who was presented to 
Clement XIV. was asked by that pontiff, with a good- 
natured smile, whether Dr. Chancey still continued to 
pray for the downfal of Babyloii. 

It was not till after the peace of 1783, that any at- 
tempts were made to found a Catholic church in Massa- 
chusetts. A very few Catholic families are dispersed 
over the state, but the only regular church is in Boston. 
Their first place of worship was a small chapel, since 
taken down ; and it was a singular cii'cumstance that this 
chapel was originally built by French Protestants who 
fled from Catholic persecution. In its commencement the 
congregation was small, and not very fortunate in its 
pastors. It increased gradually by emigrants from 
Ireland, until the building they occupied was unable to 
contain them. They then built a new church, partly 
by the great and meritorious exertions of the poor peo- 
ple who composed the congregation, whose zeal made 



71 



them contribute all they could spare from their own 
support; partly by the contributions of some individuals 
among the Protestants, whose liberality on this occasion 
wasnot merely of the purse, but, considering the previous 
hereditary prejudices, of the mind. All feelings of this 
kind have so nearly subsided, that the present genera- 
tion can hardly picture to themselves the bigotry that 
oppressed even the last. The Pope is no longer an ob- 
ject of fear, and if the Catholic religion could get rid 
of some of its encumbrances, which are now not only 
burdensome, but ridiculous, and revert to the simplicity 
of primitive institutions, many classes of protestants 
would approach them without distrust, and the most 
ancient Christian church be regarded with higher reve- 
rence. The church in Boston has derived the greatest 
advantage from the French Revolution, which drove 
into exile so large a portion of the priesthood. Two 
individuals, of great acquirements, full of charity and 
piety, driven from their distracted country, received the 
charge of this infant church. They have fulfilled the 
numerous parochial duties required by the Catholic 
religion, with apostolical simplicity and evangelical 
zeal, neither attempting to make proselytes nor to 
excite controversy ; and I presume it cannot be dispu- 
ted, and I hope will not be considered invidious <o 
say, (the circumstances of their congregation being 
taken into view,) that their ministry is by far the most 
arduous and useful in the town.* 

The cause of orthodoxy hardly gained enough by 
this accession of a church, which considers itself the 
only orthodox one, to make up for a defection it expe- 



* One of the gentlemen alluded to is siuce dead. 



72 



rienced a few years ago. One of the three Episcopal 
churches, called before theRevolution,lhe King's chapel, 
soon after the conclusion of the war, changed its faith, 
denounced the doctrine of the Trinity, keeping the 
written prayers of the former church with such alte- 
rations as the change of tenets rendered necessary, 
and became openly the first Unitarian church in this 
country. A circumstance so remarkable might seem, at 
^ distance, to be attended with insuperable obstacles. 
But you know that the edifices here are not the proper- 
ty of the state, as in Europe, but of the individuals who 
compose the congregation ; and that they have a right 
to dispose of them as they please. The church had lost 
some of its members, as well as its rector, by the Revo- 
lution, who were refugees, and the influence and per- 
suasion of their new pastors carried a majority of those 
who remained. According to the practice of our coun- 
try, the majority governed j the subject was regularly 
debated in the congregation, and the new creed adopt- 
ed by a great plurality. Those who adhered to the 
ancient faith sold their property in the church, and 
joined themselves to congregations who maintained it. 
The proceedings were all fair and open, and there was 
no oppression, though many mourned for this startling 
defection. 

You will here excuse a little digression on the subject 
of the name of this church, which has caused much 
anxiety about our political soundness ; particularly in 
those quarters where " patriotism" is fed from such 
abundant sources, that it has overflowed the bounds of our 
own country, and covered plunder and piracy, if reports 
bo true, !o no inconsiderable extent. Before the Revo- 
lution it was called The King's Chapel; after that epoch, 



73 



fhe Stone Chapd, as a distinction when there was no 
other church built of that material, and latterly it has 
taken the name of King's Chapel. This was done in 
order to hold a legacy devised by a person who died 
many years ago, and which, when it came to the church, 
had, through the great increase in the value of proper- 
ty, risen to an income of 12 or 1300 dollars a year. It 
was devised to the rector, wardens and vestry of the 
King's Chapel, for certain purposes, and a resumption of 
the name, though without the definite article, was neces- 
sary to hold the bequest. Thus much for the name; 
but something more singular is connected with this 
affair. The testator did not probably foresee the politi- 
cal changes, and certainly did not the religious ones, 
that have taken place. Experience has proved that there 
were many more things in the world *' than were 
dreamt of in his philosophy." A part of the income, 
and what at the time he perhaps thought would be the 
largest part, he directed should be paid to certain cler- 
gymen for preaching, during Lent, sermons on someone 
of the great points of orthodox faith. This of course 
must be complied with, and the walls on those occasions 
echo with the sounds of ancient doctrM^which they had 
long ceased to reverberate. 

The rector, a man of singular purity and elevation 
of sentiment, it was said objected to receiving this lega- 
cy under these conditions, but the church had a right to 
it in law, and had perhaps no alternative in claiming it. 

A preparation for a gradual dereliction of the dogmas 
of orthodoxy had been silently, and almost impercep- 
tibly, making in the congregational churches for a long 
period. The austere and bigoted character of reli- 
gious opinions and habits during the first generations of 



74 



the colony, together with the great leading principle of 
all fanatics and ultra Christians, that faith is every 
thing and works nothing, became repugnant to the peo- 
ple, when greater variety of pursuits, and more en- 
lightened views, were laid open to them. The disci- 
pline of earlier times was not relaxed without a strug- 
gle, and occasional attempts that were made to enforce 
it in all its vigour, more surely prepared its future aban- 
donment. The semblance was kept up after the reali- 
ty was extinct. Such a state of things had a pernicious 
tendency to disgust men with what they ought to reve- 
rence, and aided by the sarcastic tone of infidelity, 
wJiich pervaded many fashionable writings of the last ge- 
neration, was constantly increasing that class of persons 
who were rigid in their observances, because it aided 
their worldly designs, and were therefore fully con- 
vinced that religion was an excellent thing for others. 
Those who had purer views, found it necessary to re- 
nounce what was tyrannical and intolerant in former 
practice, to keep up with the progress of intelligence, 
and to narrow the sphere of hypocrisy. 

In the mean time, the number of writings under diffe- 
rent names, acQ|t||A|ng to their different degrees of dis- 
sent from ancient fundamental points of orthodoxy, 
had prodigiously increased. The English, and more espe- 
cially the Germans, after having buried the Classics 
under vast accumulations of commentaries, began to 
submit the Bible to their exegetical researches ; and 
passages which involved the faith and perhaps the 
peace of millions, were to be expunged as forgeries, 
or erroneous translations, from the collation of antique 
MSS. I am not quite convinced that this is expedient ; 
though I am far from denying the prodigious learning 
of some o{ those commentators, or the great services 



ID 



ihey have rendered to theological students. We do 
not live in an age, or in a country, where it will be 
possible to doubt of the advantages generally of free 
inquiry, and yet there are topics where it would be 
worse than useless. Biblical criticism is now pursued 
in the same spirit that investigated the ancient Classics, 
with a profound reverence for verbs and prepositions, 
and very little deference to any thing else. Pedants 
and sophists will uphold this practice, but before the 
matter descends to their competency, many previous 
questions will occur to considerate men. Perhaps they 
might decide that the former should continue the pur- 
suit, that the breath of time would blow away their 
chaft' and leave the grains of wheat behind. There 
seems, however, to be a mean betwixt the superstition 
and craft that would retain the Bible in a dead language, 
or keep it from being read at all, and the rashness that 
would subject it to all the trials of profane analysis, and 
all the experiments of scholastic vanity. 

The metaphysicians come readily to the aid of the 
grammarians, and if the one cannot get rid of the words, 
the other involves the sense in dark confusion. The 
union of metaphysics with religion is almost always dis- 
astrous to the latter. They either blast it with doctrines, 
that turn its genial inlluence into an inconceivable 
system, fit only to engender despair and horror, or they 
involve it in a maze of sophistry, that destroys one half 
of it, and leaves the rest uncertain. The pious, useful 
servant of God, in singleness of heart, has nothing to do 
with either, while he is pointing out to his followers the 
consolations they may derive during this transitory state 
of evil and suffering; or teaching them how to render 
themselves worthy of them, and the higher existence 



76 



they promise. When I hear one of these film -gathering 
metaphysicians toihng and twisting about in vain subtle- 
ties, and beating his poor brain against the imperious, 
invisible medium, through which the light is transmitted 
to it; and not satisfied with that light, endeavouring to 
gain, with his gross corporeal faculties, the knowledge 
of ethereal things, to soar into the glorious air of heaven, 
which can only support the purified spirit; it recalls to 
mind one of those luckless insects, which having got 
into the room on a summer's day, exhausts one's patience 
by buzzing and thumping against the pane of glass, that 
he mistakes for an opening into the air as well as the 
light, and through which he vainly endeavours to pass, I 
till tired and spent with his efforts, he falls into a corner ' 
and is forgotten. 

This desertion of the ancient platform, was well un- 
derstood, but little talked about, until a few years since, 
when the churches of the congregational order had all 
their pulpits filled with young men; and some of these, 
gifted with the brightest talents and the purest feelings, 
have been since, alas! too untimely removed. Their - 
immediate predecessors differed but little from them; 
yet the great change of tenets seemed to attract more 
observation, when all the fathers were removed, and 
the talents of these young men excited the admiration of 
their friends and the envy of others. Still no contro- 
versy existed, except some indirect skirmishing in pe- 
riodical works. The taste for polemical divinity was 
almost extinct among enlightened people. Points of 
faith were rarely subjects of discussion; charity in its 
widest sense, the practice of the moral virtues, and 
attendance on public worship, had been the principal 
subjects inculcated, and were generally held in the most 



/ / 



estimation ; devotion to particular dogmas had been 
converted into affection for their pastor in the breasts of 
his parishioners; and clergymen, not creeds, were the 
subjects of conversation. This was admirably exempli- 
fied in the sly remark of a celebrated foreigner, whose 
extensive knowledge of our country makes his society 
a constant source of delight and instruction, and who 
being asked at the south, after having visited Boston, 
whether he did not hear a great deal of conversation 
about religion there? replied, JVo, not exactly so, I did 
not hear much said about religion in Boston, but I heard a 
great deal of talk about ministers. This state of calm, so 
unusual in the regions of theology, was wonderfully 
continued; it was broken at last by an attack from the 
Calvinists a year or two since, that was meant to prd- 
voke a discussion, which it seemed indeed impossible to 
avoid, since it accused men of disingenuousness and 
duplicity, who were incapable of such practices. 

Calvinism has seldom appeared to more disadvantage, 
positively and negatively, than in this discussion. I do 
not now allude to the merit of the pamphlets that were 
written; you will not suppose me to have taken any 
interest in the most unprofitable of all vanities, a theo- 
logical controversy; nor do I refer to the gentlemen 
who wrote on the part of the assailants, but to the first 
causes, the secret movers of this dispute. Those, how- 
ever, who knew nothing of this, but engaged in it to 
obtain an advantage to their cause, must have been 
greatly disappointed. The crisis in other times might 
have been dangerous to the defendants; but they proba- 
bly gained rather than lost by it. The lesson will not 
be useless to the others, if it is improved to all the ex- 
tent of its bearings. On this occasion a gentleman, who 



78 



■'a remarkable for the promptness of his zeai and the 
ability with which his pen follows it, though a layman, 
took a part, moved by warm affection for his friends, 
and indignation against their enemies. His pamphlet 
had this title, " Are you a Calvinist or a Christian !" 
A Dutch gentleman who was here at the time, saw this 
publication, and I was much amused with the comic 
expression of surprise he exhibited at this title, for the 
book I found he would not read. What, said he, the 
Calvinists are not Christians! and he resolved with true 
filial piety to send home two copies of it to his poor 
mother, who had carefully though vainly inculcated up- 
on him that the converse of the proposition Avas the 
truth. 

Allow me, before I proceed, to explain to whom I refer, 
in speaking harshly of Calvinism. Far be it from me 
to think ill of the Calvinists as a body, for it would be 
thinking ill of a large majority of my countrymen 
enrolled in different sects. It is not of those theoreti- 
cal Calvinists, who serve under a rigid creed, and yet 
have their bosoms filled with the love of their neighbour j 
and who endeavouring all things, hoping all things, even 
of those who do not believe with them, do not go in 
pursuit of that neighbour, to the confines of the earth, 
overlooking with sour contumely the wretch who is 
pining before them. I would not think ill of any 
person for believing too much, which certainly is not the 
prevailing error of our times, provided his faith does 
not make him disdainful of good works. Rut it is of 
those practical Calvinists, whose rancorous ambition 
makes them the tyrants of society; who illustrate their 
faith by treating mankind as though they were really a 
herd of villains and convicts; who attempt to make inno- 



79 



cent amusements serious offences, teaching that it i$ 
dangerous to go to a ball or a concert, and perfectly 
harmless to frequent evening lectures. Men who are 
voluntary, public accusers, and constituting a tribunal, 
animated by the spirit of the inquisition, but fortunately 
without its power. It is of those who make Calvinism 
the means of promoting worldly views, and temporal 
domination; a combination, which if not the most dange- 
rous, is the most odious, that human character can pre- 
sent. 

Among the congregational churches, there is one 
which has receded but little from the ancient line, and 
raiiintains what is called modern Calvinism. There 
were a few individuals, however, who were not satisfied 
with this; and a handsome meeting-house was built by 
them some years since in a fashionable part of the town. 
They began their course under the guidance of one of 
the most athletic of the sect. He gave them the most 
fervid and frequent descriptions of the burning lake, 
until its glare seemed flashing round the walls; he placed 
before them all the nations of India, a vast " current of 
souls washing into it;" he calculated with inimitable 
precision, " making allowance for low latitudes and 
omitting infants and small children, how many plunged 
into this gulf every day, every hour, every minute;" 
yet with many similar topics of edification, urged with 
great zeal and force, his ministry was not very flourish- 
ing, and after a time he returned to his former friends, 
where such truths were probably better received. The 
church under its present pastor is more flourishing. It 
has been a favourite object to establish it, and visits have 
been paidby some of the most eminent Presbyterian cler- 
gymen from other states. Their preaching in this town 



80 



gave verj little pleasure, at least to those who were not 
their immediate followers. They urged with vehemence 
the most difficult dogmas of the creed, which had little 
tendency to persuade, and the imprecations they made 
use of caused, in those who were not accustomed to 
them, a shuddering disgust. 

There are seven or eight churches that are some- 
times called Unitarian, but you must not understand that 
they are all strictly so, or that they agree in their 
creed. Probably no two of them agree exactly. There 
are shades of difference among those who have ceased 
to acknowledge the doctrine of the Trinity, but some 
have diverged much more than others. A part of them 
would be satisfactory to the orthodox, on most points of 
their preaching : generally their discourses turn more on 
morality and the great practical duties of Christians, on 
the love of God and our neighbour, on which two com- 
mandments hang all the law and the prophets, than on 
points of faith. But this independence leaves each to 
follow his own judgment exclusively, and opens a wide 
extent for sermonizing; and if in one of these churches 
you hear a sermon, which would not be disowned by any 
of the great divines of the last century, you may go to 
another, and endure a discussion on Madame de Stael 
and the Edinburgh Review. 

It ought to be mentioned, to the honour of our Unita- 
rians, that they have not much of the proselyting spirit, 
and the little they have exhibited, was perhaps in self- 
defence. Zeal in this way would be extremely incongruous 
in them; it would be like eating an ice-cream with a hot 
spoon. We have seen, it is true, that the most sanguinary, 
remorseless, and wide spread fanaticism which ever 
desolated the earth, was founded on this dogma of unity; 



ai 



but that orginated under a different dispensation. Here 
there is not much to fear; hitherto the sympathy of liberal 
minds lias been in favour of the Unitarians, even among 
those who regretted the course they followed ; not only 
on account of the virtues and talents which they possess- 
ed, but because it was felt that their cause involved the 
general possession of religious, and, in some respect, of 
civil liberty. The rancorous spirit that was opposed 
to them, aimed at universal domination. Public feelings, 
however, is now very enlightened and impartial on these 
points; and if it would not endure the burning of Servetus 
in an auto da fe, neither would it allow of a bull 
Unigenllus, to excommunicate the Jansenists. 

A political domination, by any religious sect, can never 
happen again in our fortunate country. Some attempts 
that were made here, such as giving the Andover 
Theological College a right of forcing a creed upon their 
students, and the plan of disfranchising the citizens on 
the holiest day of the week, and filling the country with 
spies and petty tyrants under the name of tithingmen, 
failed in a manner that will preclude a repetition. The 
Sabbatists rely upon the fourth commandment to support 
theirJewish observance of the Sabbath, yet the Iconoclasts 
might as well cite the authority of the second, for destroy- 
ing every statue in the houses of our dilletanti, or the 
signs of our inns : a literal application of either of these 
commandments to the present state of society, would be 
equally absurd and impracticable, and the nevv dispensa- 
tion has clearly restricted the rigid minuteness of those 
two commandments, which were so remarkably designed 
for a particular people, under peculiar circumstances, 
and for a period which has been accomplished. 
Connecticut was the last state where any power was 



82 



exercised in this way, and this has been lately subverted, 
and its agents covered with signal confusion. Of all the 
privileges of this glorious country, there is none more 
magnificent than its entire exemption from political 
tyranny, clothed in the garb of religion. There is no 
lesson that we are destined to teach mankind, no example 
that we hold out to them so fraught with wisdom, so 
productive of beneficent results, as the entire severance 
of church and state; giving to the former all the rights 
which the latter can protect, and none of the power it 
can abuse. Though we never suffered so much as the 
nations of Europe, from these incalculable evils that are 
every where created by this union so noxious to both, 
and so useless to every thing but abuse, yet we gradually 
arrived at the perfect system we now enjoy. The state 
is relieved from a troublesome burden, and religion from 
a dangerous protector. The former, where a connexion 
exists, is often in the most inminent danger from the 
tjuarrels of the latter, and this in its turn is sure to be 
made basely subservient to the intrigues of the other. 
When we take into view the innumerable calamities, the 
desolating wars, the horrible persecutions, and the 
withering tyranny that has resulted from this fatal sys- 
tem ; and in despite of the progress of intelligence, the 
enormous evils it is even now causing to the most en- 
lightened nations of Europe, we may pride ourselves 
from having first practically shown the safety and advan- 
tages of an opposite course, in being the benefactors of 
mankind. 

It would be difficult, perhaps impossible, to give the 
numbers of these different sects. In Boston the non- 
orthodox of the Congregational class greatly prevail ; 
and there are a few congregations of the same negative 



8a 



description in other parts of the eastern states ; the vast 
majority are Calvinistic, though there are many clergy- 
men who avoid dwelling exclusively on the five points 
in their exhortations, and who adopt a mild course of 
practice, without positively renouncing ancient doc- 
trines, which they think it inexpedient to subvert. 

In Connecticut the Congr^ationalists are almost ex- 
clusively Calvinists, and the latter creed predominates 
throughout New-England. Since the Calvinists lost the 
control of the university at Cambridge, they have set 
up a theological college for themselves at Andover. 
This seminary has been very liberally endowed, and is 
in a flourishing state, having about twenty students quali- 
fying themselves for the pulpit. They are taught a 
creed, which is a mixture of Calvinism and llopkinsian- 
ism ; but assent to the creed must be voluntary, the 
legislature having refused to indulge the college in forc- 
ing their creed on the students. The professors are 
men of learning and ability, and the institution is in a 
growing condition. 

Clergymen have much more social intercourse 
with laymen here, than in the middle states. This is a 
modification only of former custom. They originally 
exercised a vigilant influence over every thing that was 
done in civil as well as in church affairs, and the respect 
due to their station was every where felt. Their watch- 
fulness over their flock extended to a minute observance 
of all their movements ; and the interdiction of many 
innocent amusements was seconded by a close inspec- 
tion of the habits of private life. This was continued 
till the Revolution. — Since that time the clergy them- 
selves have been glad to get rid of an odious species of 
inquisition, which their parishioners would be apt now 



84 



to consider as a jurisdiction that would not be peroiitted. 
Reserving all the right of remonstrating with those com- 
municants who give occasion to any scandal, they leave 
the ordinary routine of society to be regulated by the 
discretion and prudence of those who compose it. Their 
society is always courted, and it is one of their difficul- 
ties to avoid entertainments that would consume too 
much of their time. They are frequently met with in 
social parties, where they are always welcome. It is 
obvious that this species of intercourse must be attend- 
ed with the best consequences. Their presence im- 
poses a delicate kind of restraint, not the less strong, 
because nothing is assumed which tends to keep con- 
versation from becoming licentious, or indulgence im- 
moderate. Religion itself loses none of its chai'ms, 
when its ministers, by their personal intercourse, con- 
descend to a cheerful approbation of innocent gayety 
and retined amusement. 

I will conclude this long letter, by giving you an 
opinion, that the Episcopal church will hereafter in- 
crease, and hold, at no very distant day, a much larger 
relative proportion to other denominations than it now 
does ; and I will offer you a brief statement of the rea- 
sons on which this opinion is founded. You may put 
down what you please to any prepossession which you 
may suppose me to have, when 1 tell you that I am an 
Episcopalian. As to the difference between the Pres- 
byterian and Episcopal forms, I should say as Counsellor 
Pleydell did to Colonel Mannering — " I hope a plain 
man may go to heaven without thinking about them at 
all ; but I love to pray where my fathers prayed be- 
fore me, without thinking worse of the Presbyterian 



S5 



forms, because they do not affect me with the same as- 
sociations." The case will now come fiiirly before you. 
Accompany me back to the origin of the colony. — 
Our ancestors were driven into non-conformity by the 
arrogance, the bigotry, and the indiscretion of prelates, 
who met a restless and inquiring spirit witii a more ex- 
tensive display of ceremonial observances, and a more 
eager assertion of supremacy. Archbishop Laud, in 
particular, who seems to have had a strong leaning to- 
wards the Romish church, by requiring the most rigid 
attention to what a more liberal age would consider 
trifles, drove some of the ablest scholars and purest 
minds among his clergy into dissent ; continued perse- 
cution made them more (intractable, and finally exaspe- 
rated them into a thorough non-conformity. This coun- 
try was opened as an asylum, and they and their follow- 
ers, disgusted with a hierarchy, which exhibited too 
many examples of the priest, and too few of the pastor, 
fled to it for shelter. A voyage across the Atlantic, in 
our times a mere pleasurable trip, was then far other- 
wise. — Grief and hatred were deeply nourished against 
those who had driven them into a distant and dangerous 
exile. Those particularly who first went to Holland, 
and came afterwards to Plymouth, saw Calvinism in all 
its vigour in that country, and profited by their visit ; 
but among the first emigrants, there were some who did 
not wish to renounce the Episcopal church entirely, be- 
cause of the abuses which had crept into it. Some of 
these are mentioned by an earl}' writer, who styles them 
"goodly Episcopalians," and who would never join 
themselves with the independent congregations, assign- 
ing this pithy reason — " that they had left England be- 
cause they did not like the lord bishops, but they could 



not join with them, because they woukl not be under 
the lord brethren.^'' Those who came to Salem hesita- 
ted what course to adopt. Episcopacy was given up 
with some rehictance, but at that time they would not 
probably have secured their freedom if they had not be- 
come independents ; — yet, if Episcopacy had been then, 
what it now is, cleared of many excrescences and use- 
less repetitions in the service, puritied from several idle 
ceremonies, and emancipated from a hierarchy that de- 
pended on a distant sovereign, and not on the people of | 
its charge, a considerable number, at least of the first '■ 
settlers, would have gladly maintained it. 

It is indeed fortunate that Episcopacy was not establish- 
ed; if it had been, and the people had continued as much 
tinder the influence of religion, the Revolution would j 
have been long procrastinated. A clergy dependent I 
on a foreign appointment, would have always bowed to 
that power, and sacrificed the interests of their fol- 
lowers to their personal aggrandizement. This must 
inevitably be so, and the examples now before our 
eyes in some countries of Europe, show how extensive 
is the mischief it occasions. In this country the Epis- 
copal clergy were almost all unfriendly to the Revolu- | 
tion, and their influence was almost constantly exerted i 
against it. This kept alive a feeling of jealousy and ;' 
dislike towards the church, founded on very just and 
suflicient motives. 

The same tone of subservience to a patron, and 
haughty demeanourto the parishioners, which is not very 
uncommon in England, would, in the course of time, have 
been felt here with increased force, since the patroa 
was essentially indifferent to the interests of the coun- 
try. The numerous abuses which have crept into the 



87 



church esiabhahment in England, the wide departure 
irom the primitive character of the clerical function, 
which have made the clergy of the established church, 
according to the just remark of an intelligent traveller, 
'* little more than an aristocratic body in the state," would 
never have been endured by a people, who had fled 
here to avoid such a domination. And till the Revolu- 
tion severed all connexion, the Episcopal clergy were al- 
ways obnoxious to suspicion. Now, that this church is 
left to itself, it has become as national in its character as 
any other denomination; its ministers and their congrega- 
tions are connected from mutual choice, depend on each 
other, without any foreign intervention, and the true 
character of the Christian pastor being restored, the 
affection of his flock follows of course. 

Episcopacy being thus freed from the alloy of tempo- 
ral power, from the scandal of sinecures and the odious- 
ness of simony; the rector of a church stands in that 
relation which would have prevented one of the ori- 
ginal causes of dissent; and the sect enjoys the advanta- 
ges of a very ancient, venerable form of church govern- 
ment, the want of which has often proved inconvenient 
to the Congregationalists. The service as it is adopted 
in this country, retains all that is essential, and is freed 
from what was mere ceremony and repetition, which 
superstition, and the danger of innovation, still retain in 
England. Episcopacy, as it exists in Scotland, is on the 
same foundation that it is in the United States; purified 
from all political influence, it is hardly an object of 
jealousy to the sour, dominating intolerance of Pres- 
byterians. Episcopal ordination, to say no more, 
is at least as valid as Presbyterian ; and 1 have heard 
clergymen, both of the orthodox and liberal description. 



88 



say, they should be very willing to adopt a form of 
prayer, if the.ir congregations would give their assent. 

The ancient prayers used in this church, so admirable 
for their simplicity, pathos, comprehensiveness, and hu- 
mility, cannot hardly be repeated without emotion. 
The facility and assistance which these written prayers 
give to fix attention and assist devotion, are obvious 
The particular services of the church especially, im- 
press deeply even those who have not been bred in its 
forms. Thus the profound solemnity and impressiveness, 
not to mention the communion of the marriage and 
funeral services, have sometimes caused them to be used 
by persons who belonged to other sects. There is, too, 
something gratifying, and ennobling, in the associations 
they awaken ; to kneel to the same exercises, to repeat 
the same prayers, that so many millions, so many great, 
good, and illustrious of the human race have said before 
us during so many centuries, appears to connect us 
with past ages, with the generations that are gone, and 
we almost seem to partake of the dignity that is 
attached to what is ancient and permanent. 

In the lirst zeal and hurry of secession, extempo- 
raneous prayers being then replete with enthusiasm, may- 
be fully entered into by an audience under the impulse 
of the same feelings. But this system in general supposes 
greater gifts in the preacher, and greater abstraction and 
power of concentrating attention in the heart, than falls 
to the lot of most preachers, or most congregations. 
And unless very unusual powers exist, the effect is not 
very edifying. A congregation becomes cold, listless, 
and impatient, while the preacher is hesitating in his 
supplications, stringing together ill-assorted texts of 
scripture, or what is intolerable, metaphysical subtletie?, 



89 



or puerile novelties and prettiness of expression. The 
danger too is great, of running into mere brilliant dis- 
play, and giving occasion to such a remark as was once 
made on a particular prayer, of which it was observed, 
" tiiat it was the most eloquent prayer ever addressed 
to a Eioston audience." The Presbyterian system of 
prayer is so unfavourable to devotion, in an audience 
so adapted to indolence and indifiference — such a strange 
evasion of the duty of prayer, by substituting one indi- 
vidual to pray for all, that it must have been introduced 
by the tirst t'ounders, because they could not separate 
the prayers of the church from its corruptions, and 
they were afraid to retain any one principle, lest some 
abuses should come with it. Otherwise, the recital of 
prayers by the whole congregation accompanying the 
minister, would seem one of the most useful, indispen- 
sable forms ; appropriately terminated by his separate- 
ly asking the blessing of heaven on his flock. The 
deep sympathy, the pervading emotion, that can wrap 
and blend a whole congregation in the orisons of the 
preacher, can only exist at rare periods and under the 
excitements of some interesting occasion, or of the 
most powerful talents. In a general way, a quiet and 
decent attention is the utmost that can be expected; and 
this very repose will be apt to lead some minds into 
wide excursion of thoughts ; while the attention of 
others will be interrupted by the passing of a carriage, 
the fall of a book, or the rustling of a breeze. 

There are inconveniences attending the course pur- 
sued by the liberal party among Congregationalists, from 
the want of some standard to confine the aberrations of 
teachers within known limits. Otherwise, there seems 
to be no security that posterity will be content with the 

8 



90 



doctrines they now retain; but they may find somethin- 
in these which they cannot understand, and if the pro- 
gress of improvement continues till there is no mystery 
left, it is extremely difficult to say how much of Chris- 
tianity will be finally tolerated. If, however, there 
should always be enough to constitute a distinct sect, 
and satisfy the refined and enlightened portion of 
society with a pure system of morality, there will be 
many seceders who require a certain degree of awe 
and veneration to enter into their religious feelings. 
The most beautiful morality will seem cold to many 
minds, if it is not given in connexion with what h 
awful and even mysterious. Satisfaction in religion 
does not require the same demonstration as in mathema- 
tics. Mystery surrounds us everywhere; the existence 
of the world, our own, every object in nature, is lost 
in obscurity at last ; the origin and termination are 
alike unknown; and we are obliged to refer the whole 
to a Being, whose first, necessary attribute, infinity, is 
utterly incomprehensible. Some mystery in religion 
seems analogous to what we see in nature, whose opera- 
tions elude even the crucible and microscope ; and the 
degree of indistinctness occasioned by the former calls 
in the solace of faith to compensate for difficulties that 
assail our reason, on which many repose with confidence 
and hope. A scheme, therefore, made perfectly clear to 
mere human intelligence, however closely interwoven 
with a pure morality, will not suffice for all, and under 
such a system of preaching, several would be inclined to 
make the complaint, though with less coarseness and 
violence, of the old woman in the Tales of my Land- 
lord, — " For souls are hardened and deadened, and the 
'■■ mouths of fasting multitudes ai-e crammed wi' poison- 



4 



91 



'* 0U8 bran, instead of the sweet word in season ; and 
" mony an luingrj, starving creature, when he sits 
**d0wn on a Sunday forenoon to get something that 
"might warm him to the great work, has a dry clatter 
" of morahty driven about his lugs." 
- The adoption of the Episcopal form would prevent 
some of this difficulty. The liturgy, embodying the 
ancient, venerable, sublime doctrines of Christianity, 
clothed in the language of the fathers and the apostles, 
will satisfy the feelings of those who have been taught 
to venerate those doctrines ; who demand something 
more than a system of rhetoric and geometry for their 
religious feelings, and who are ready to give the gtiia 
impossibile est as a reason lor their belief. Assent may 
be given to those doctrines with different shades of 
conviction; as it must have been by the millions who 
have professed them. All rational minds may tind shel- 
ter within its pale. Those who prefer to preach or to 
hear a frequent repetition of the great tenets of ortho- 
doxy, may pursue them to the very brink of the Cal- 
vinistic gulf, while those who love rather to dwell on 
the maxims and injunctions in the moral code of the 
gospel, are at full liberty to pursue it. If a preacher has 
a congregation, whose callous and sluggish habits re- 
quire strong stimulants, he may administer them ; and 
another who presides over a more retined and feeling 
people, may edify them with the topics of charity and 
devotion. 

In the ancient colony laws, fines and imprisonment 
were laid upon the heinous offender, who dared to 
keep that immortal day, which for seventeen centuries 
iit least has excited the joy and devotion of the Chris- 
tian world. Our ancestors dreaded mince pies as dan 



92 



gerous to the soul, which are now considered as 
noxious only to the body. A voluntary, spontaneous, 
and natural approximation to the practice of the great 
majority of Christians, in celebrating the festival 
of Christmas, is growing into a habit among our dif- 
ferent sects. If the numerous fasts and feasts of the 
Roman Church is an excess in one direction, is not the 
refusal to commemorate the great festival and fast of 
the church, an extravagance in another ? What would 
seem more natural, or more impressive, than the religious 
observation of those two days, the coming and departing 
of the Divine author of our religion; the one as a day of 
thanks and gratitude to God, the other of humiliation 
and grief? And yet they were once denounced as 
grievous abominations. The practice of reading the 
Bible publicly was also proscribed, and the Lord's 
Prayer is still but seldom used; yet how blind and bigoted 
the bigotry must be that would not be ashamed of such 
neglect, when the danger of doing any thing that is 
practised in the church can no longer be feared ! The 
service of the church, which comprises its prayers 
and portions of scripture, presents something stable, a 
secure resting place for devotion, which is satisfied by 
these, when it may not be edified by the sermon. This 
advantage will not be lightly estimated by those reflect- 
ing minds, who look to future consequences. For im^' 
the course of time, with the inevitably lessening interest*^ 
which is felt in loose uncertain prayers, that are said for • 
them, and with the dereliction of those severe and mys- 
terious doctrines, that keeps zeal alive, what will be.^ 
the motive for going to a place of worship, except to 
hear an able or brilliant discourse ? and when that 
becomes the predominant inclination, what will be the 



93 



degree of difference between such a congregation and a 
respectable audience attending to one of our annual 
orations, or listening to the recital of Collin's Ode on 
the Passions ? This is exemplified in a way that would 
appear very strange to persons not accustomed to it. It is 
a general practice to inquire of those who have been 
to meeting, How did you like the sermon ? Was it a 
new one ? Were you pleased with the prayer 'I — and 
corresponding remarks in return. O yes, the ser- 
mon was a delightful one. It was a very brilliant dis- 
course; his prayer pleased me very well; there were 
some fine expressions in it, but it was too long. A solemn 
act of public worship is talked of and criticised very 
much in the same way as if it was an academical exer- 
cise that the individual had attended. 

The purposes of ambition can no longer be promo- 
ted by belonging to any particular sect. It is now I 
believe never a question in any case, what sect a man 
belongs to, by those who are to place him in any civil 
or political station. A candidate derives no more 
influence from being a Congregationahst, than from 
I being a Baptist or an Episcopalian, which was not always 
the case. Some opposition was made a few years since 
to the election of a very excellent governor, because 
he was a Unitarian, but this opposition was peculiar, 
and probably would not occur again. The domination 
of a particular sect could not now exist, however 
powerful such a sect might be; and since the Congrega- 
tionalists have separated and formed in reality two sects, 
the liberal and the Calvinistic, the power they once 
possepsed is broken. The choice of a form of worship 
is therefore uninfluenced by any worldly considerations. 

I may add one circum?tance more ; no sectarian 



94 



I riumph can be gained by this suggested increase of Episco- 
pacy. If it takes place, it is a mere question of expediency 
with the individual, and no advantage can arise to those 
who are now Episcopalians This church, to its honour, 
is not a proselyting one ; and the " genteel indifference" 
for which it is proverbial, is true here as elsewhere. 
No ill will can therefore be excited against it on this 
account. Nothing indeed ought to inspire more distrust, 
than the spirit of making proselytes among different 
Christian sects. It is very natural that a good man, 
who is sincere in his convictions, should desire to see 
others adopt the same sentiments, and his benevolence 
may sometimes lead him into the error of attempting to 
induce them to join with him. This disposition ought 
to be cautiously guarded against. However a man may 
deceive himself, vanity has a share in it ; it is often 
associated with the most dangerous passions of the 
human breast, ambition and avarice ; and whenever it 
prevails to any extent and for any length of time, reli- 
gion becomes only the cover for their gratification. 

Generally speaking,religion is honoured here, and bigot- 
ry has much decreased. A regular attendance on public 
worship is almost universal. The state leaves every 
man to choose what religion he pleases, but obliges him 
to a slight contribution for the support of some one. 
The stipends of the clergy are regulated by agreement 
between them and their congregations, and when once 
stipulated, are recoverable by law so long as the agree- 
ment subsists. In the country there is generally a 
parsonage with a small farm attached to it; the occupan- 
cy of this, with a supply of firewood, and from 200 to !, 
1000 dollars a year, constitute the emoluments. la 
larger towns it may be something more, and in the capi-ll 



05 



till is from two to three thousand dollars a year, which 
is not more than enough to meet the increased expen- 
ses ; and in congregations where the minister does not 
receive very considerable presents, there is not so 
much liberality, when the respective means and expen- 
ses of living are considered, as is shown in many of 
the country parishes. On the whole, the religious 
condition is in the highest detiree fortunate; there is 
no coercion; every sect is protected, and the clergy are 
beloved and respected. 



LETTER IV. 

Commerce. 

Mv DEAR Sin, 

In attempting to give you some account of the com- 
merce of this section, I can hardly expect to offer any 
thing new; yet as you have been, perhaps, in the habit of 
considering rather the results of the entire trade of the 
United States, than of any other particular part, a curso- 
ry view of the commercial resources of the eastern states 
in particular, may, by comparison, give more distinct ideas 
of the whole. I do not mean to offer you minute state- 
ments, or amounts in figures, which would only be giving 
extracts from some of our statistical works; but to make 
a few general observations on the principal resources 
which we possess. 

The first of these, undoubtedly, is to be found in our 
population, its numbers and character. Between the 
southern frontiers of Connecticut and the eastern one 
of Maine, there are eight hundred miles of sea-coast, 
containing numerous harbours; several rivers, navigable 



96 



for sea vessels, from twenty to an hundred miles, empty 
within these limits. Almost the whole of this coast, 
and the banks of these rivers, are lined with inhabitants, 
accustomed to commercial and maritime affairs, 'i his re- 
gion is so healthy, that besides supplying these increas- 
ing branches of employment, it annually sends off a sur- 
plus, to meet the demands of less healthy and less popu- 
lous shores. The whole of this population receives the 
rudiments of education in a sufficient degree to qualify 
even its poorest members for advancing their fortunes, 
if they have skill and disposition to better them. The 
excitement produced by the great wealth, which has 
accrued from the pursuit of commerce during the 
last thirty years, keeps this population in a state of 
restless activity, calculating observation, and adventu- 
rous enterprise, which, without any exaggeration, may 
be said to be uneqaalled by any other country. 

A considerable part of this population, thus convenient- 
ly situated, is early accustomed to look for a living 
from the ocean, which breaks at their feet; a soil com- 
paratively sterile forces them in some sort to share, by 
freighting the products of richer climes; they take to 
the water as easily and almost as early as the broods of 
water fowls; they pass as much of their time on shore, 
as those sea-birds which only resort to it to make their 
nests; their path is on " the mountain wave," and like 
the same birds, they float on it gaily and fearlessly, 
if the daily reckoning only shows the desired diilerence 
in latitude and longitude. As a nursery of seamen, this 
district affords one of the most valuable in the world. 
The whale fishery, which is carried on in both oceans, 
the fishery of the banks of Newfoundland, and the va- 
rious fisheries nearer home, form the hardiest and best 



97 



of sailors. The manner in which these fisheries are i)ro 
secuted, being not on wage^, but on shares, gives habits of 
economy, watchfulness and industry, that are invaluable- 
The coasting trade, which is daily increasing, adds a 
vast additional supply of hardy and excellent seamen; 
all these have their homes and families on these shores, 
to which they are strongly attached, though they are ab- 
sent from them for weeks, months, or even years together. 
In alluding to this attachment, 1 cannot help recalling the 
mistake of a very acute and profound observer, which 
furnishes a very striking instance of the errors into 
which theory is apt to lead even ttie ablest minds. Tal- 
leyrand, in his Essay on Colonies, speaking of our fisher- 
men, considers them, " a timid, indolent race; that they 
are cosmopolites, and a few codfihh more or less deter- 
mine their country." As to the timidity and indolence, 
the expression of Burke, — " every sea is vexed by 
their fisheries," may be a sufficient answer as to their 
being cosmopolites, and migrating with the codfish; the 
latter have not been more steady to the submarine 
mountains of Newfoundland, than the former have beea 
to the rocky and sandy shores, from whence they annu- 
ally go in pursuit of them, and where their progenitors 
have successively resided for nearly two centuries from 
the first settlement of the country. 

This section furnishes supplies of the various kinds of 
timber used in ship-building, and abounds with mechan- 
ics in all the various branches connected with naval con- 
struction; with these advantages, ships are built here with 
great economy, and a very large portion of the tonnage 
employed both in the foreign and coasting trade, is own- 
ed in these states. Having therefore the advantage of 
possessing an ample supply of seamen, and being the chief 



98 



residence of the ship-owners, they have great advan 
tages for engaging protitahly in the carrying trade, 
foreign and domestic. The produce of the fisheries, of 
the forest, salted provis^ions, potash, and some articles of 
manufactures, are the principal domestic exports. To 
this is to be added the merchandisie brought from other 
parts of the Union, and from foreign countries. The 
trade of the United States with Asia, which now employs 
30,000 tons of shipping, is principally, perhaps three 
quarters of it, carried on by merchants of this section. 
The vessels engaged in this commerce, sail almost 
wholly in ballast, taking specie to purchase their return 
cargoes. 

This rich trade, which has prodigiously increased of 
late years, is prosecuted here with great activity and 
advantage. The vessels employed in it are generally 
of a moderate or small size, between two and tive hun- 
dred tons; they are titted out with every requisite for 
a speedy passage, and safe transport of their cargoes, 
but with nothing for ostentation. It is therefore carried 
on so much more economically, that the foreign carrier 
cannot enter into competition with it in any free market, 
and even the merchants in other parts ef the United 
States have found it less profitable than it is here. So 
many young men have commenced their career, by 
going out as supercargoes; so many able navigators, fre- 
quently also employed in making the investments of the 
cargo, have prosecuted this trade, that it is now better 
understood in the eastern states than in any part of the 
world. Not only the direct trade with Hindostan and 
China, but the trade between all the islands and coun- 
tries of the Indian ocean, they thoroughly understand; 
and besides our own country, a considerable portion cf 



99 



Europe is supplied by these enterprising merchants 
with the collee and spices ol' the islands, the sug.>r and 
cotton, raw and unmanufactured, of the Indian peninsula, 
and the silks, teas, and nankins of China. 

The commercial cities of the United States may be 
divided into two classes; the first contains those which, 
situated on rivers at a distance from the coast, are the 
depots for the sale of the domestic produce of the 
district of country wiiich resorts to them for a market, 
and also for the supply of the same country with the 
foreign merchandise they consume. The second class 
consists of those cities which, in addition to these 
branches of trade, are, from their proximity to the ocean, 
convenient marts for general commerce, where every 
species of merchandise is placed in depot for subsequent 
distribution. In the tirst class will be found New-Or- 
leans, Savannah, Alexandria, Baltimore, and Philadel- 
phia; in the second, some place on the Gulf of IVIexico, 
Charleston, Norfolk, New-York, Boston, Salem, Ports- 
mouth, and Portland, may be named. The fate of some 
of our cities seem yet undecided. The national course 
of events will lessen the number that will be great 
depots. The small places are drawn into the vortex of 
the larger ones. This process has been produced by 
Philadelphia, New-York, and Boston. 

It seems probable that some place on the Gulf of 
Mexico, east of the Mississippi, must become an immense 
mart of commerce, not only for the countries bordering 
on that Gulf and the West India islands, but as a sea- 
port for New-Orleans, and through the latter for the vast 
commerce that will be borne on the Mississippi. C^a'^^s- 
ton and Norfolk labour under disadvantages of climate 
and population, that will prevent them from becoming 



100 



general depots for the Atlantic states. New- York is 
daily developing a prodigious growth, which its position, 
both with regard to internal and external commerce, 
is calculated to give it. Salem transacts almost all its 
business on the Exchange of Boston. Portsmouth and 
Portland are too confined places in their interior trade, 
to flourish largely from that; and with regard to foreign 
commerce, are less advantageously placed than Boston, 
towards which they must naturally gravitate. 

The two principal depots of commerce on our Atlan- 
tic coast will be New-York and Boston- On the great 
resources and advantages of the former it is not neces- 
sary to remark ; the latter only comes within my limits. 
That Boston must always be a considerable place of 
commerce, and go on to increase with a steady -and cer- 
tain growth for a long period to come, seems evident 
from the following circumstances : It is the natural cen- 
tre of a district whose population at present exceeds a 
million, which is gradually increasing. This popula- 
tion is thriving, industrious, and consuming; the Dis- 
trict of Maine and the provinces of Nova Scotia and 
New Brunswick, ivhich lie in front of it, and will always 
have an active trade with it, are in a state of progres- 
sive improvement, that is yet susceptible of very wide 
extension ; it is the centre of the great nursery of sea- 
men, and of the business of ship-building. — It is the 
chief market for all the various products of the fishe- 
ries, and of salted provisions ; its harbour is safe, com- 
modious, and connected immediately with the sea ; | 
it is the place of export for many valuable manufactures, 
long and solidly established ; it is in possession of a very 
large moneyed capital. From this last advantage, and 
from much experience and knowledge of the trade with 



101 



Asia, the largest portion of that trade, as has been be- 
fore remarked, is carried on from that place or its vici- 
nity. This latter circumstance may not be so perma- 
nent as some of the others, but there seems no reason 
to doubt of its being long retained. 

A good deal of experience has been acquired here on 
the subject of the banking system ; and as it was not ob- 
tained gratuitously, its practical utility is greater, and 
the impression will not be easily obliterated. This i^ 
a great benefit, as their concerns are conducted on a 
Ij solid foundation, and more confidence is felt in their 
stability. On this subject, perhaps, more than any 
other, it is time that " the follies of the fathers are lost 
upon the children ; each generation must have its own." 
Even our neighbours, who have seen the mischief we 
had suffered, have gone still further lengths into the 
same extravagances, and are now suffering even greater 
evils. The banks in Massachusetts are under good re- 
gulations ; they are obliged to make semi-annual returns 
to the legislature of the state of their debts, credits, bills 
in circulation, and specie in their vaults. Most of the 
country banks in this and the neighbouring states are 
checked upon the exchange of Boston. The effect is 
nearly the same, though the action is different, with 
what takes place between the country banks in England 
and the London bankers. Many of the banks in this 
district which are most active in the employment of their 
capital, keep a deposite with some of the Boston banks, 
where their bills can be redeemed at a fixed, small dis- 
oount : this discount depends on the distance, and varies 
from i to H per cent, or about the cost of time and 
travel to go to the banks themselves. The consequence 
is, that these bills circulate freely, so long as their is- 

9 



102 



sues are proportioned to their capital ; any excess is 
immediately checked, and if not corrected, the bank 
soon loses its credit, and is of course restricted. The 
consequence is, that there is little unreasonable preju- 
dice against banks, and no ignorant admission of any 
peculiar privileges for making money to a corporation, 
nor blind submission to their issuing what quantities of 
bills they please, and refusing to redeem them, though 
they may, at the same time, be vaunting a dividend of 
eight, twelve, or twenty per eentum, annually. 

The essays we see in the papers of the southern and 
middle states, in which the most egregious errors are fre- 
quently promulgated in the most virulent and inflamma- 
tory language, show how slow is the progress of truth, 
and how inveterate and absurd prejudice may become, 
when pecuniary interests are engaged in blinding the 
reason and exciting the passions. From some things 
which are advanced by the writers and speakers of the 
day, it would seem as if they had never heard or read 
of any thing that has taken place in banking affairs, 
either in England or in their own country, though there 
is hardly any question which can arise, that has not 
been discussed ; and however uncertain some of the 
subordinate points may be, the fundamental principle, 
that all corporate or individual bankers should be held 
to pay their notes on demand, in the national medium, 
whether that be paper, silver, or gold, is fully acknow- 
ledged and maintained. People who know nothing of 
the first principles of finance, and there are too many 
such concerned in banking affairs, have an idea that a 
bank is to create wealth where none exists ; — it cer- 
tainly will change the holders of it, if the mere signa- 
tures of clerks are to pass as the representative of pro- 



103 



perty. 1 knew a member of the Massachusetts legis- 
lature, who was very anxious to get a bank in his town, 
and the principal reason he urged was, that considera- 
ble sums of money passed through it. — He had an idea, 
that by having a bank, they should catch these dollars, 
just as they did the salmon with a seine. Another 
member of the same legislature, several years since, 
who came from a town on the extremity of Cape Cod, 
asked for a bank for his place, for which he gave the 
following reasons : — " That they were so poor, that a 
bank ought to be granted to them ; that the legislature 
had granted banks in the rich counties of Hampshire 
and Worcester, where the land was very productive, 
and the inhabitants so rich, that they could do without 
them ; but that in his part of the country there was no- 
thing but sand ; that the land produced nothing, and 
that they were entitled to a bank ; and that his consti- 
tuents would be very much dissatisfied if an act of in- 
corporation was not granted to them." The worthy 
member kept out of sight the only argument that would 
have availed any thing — the riches which his consti- 
tuents drew from a bank that never failed them, and 
which injured no one — the grand bank of Newfound- 
land, which would have made a bank a matter of con- 
venience, where there was capital enough to found it 
upon and to employ it ; but he seriously cited their po- 
verty as an argument that should entitle them to a bank, 
from feelings of commiseration on the part of the legis- 
lature. Incredible as this may seem, it actually occur- 
red, and in some of the states a similar notion prevails, 
that a bank is to create wealth like a mine, and that the 
indefinite multiplication of engraven pieces of paper, as 
the representative of property, is an actual increase of 



104 



that property, though in reality it diminishes its value. 
Much embarrassment and loss will arise to the commu- 
nity where these principles of banking are yet in pro- 
cess, but after a time they will acquire wisdom from suf- 
fering, and these baseless speculations will be ex- 
ploded. 

I met, some time since, with an extract that had been 
made from Governor Pownal's work on the colonies, 
which furnishes a good specimen of generalizing, and 
which I will copy here as a text for a few remarks of a 
general .nature on the subject of this letter. 

" In the first uncultivated ages of Europe, when men 
sought nothing but to possess, and to secure possession, 
the power of the sword was the predominant spirit of 
the world ; it was that which formed the Roman em- 
pire ; and it was the same which, in the declension of 
that empire, divided it again into the several govern- 
ments formed upon the ruins of it. 

" When men afterward, from leisure, began to exer- 
cise the power of their minds in (what is called) learn- 
ing, religion, the only learning of that time, led them to 
a concern for their spiritual interests, and consequently 
led them under their spiritual guides. The power of 
religion would hence as naturally predominate and rule, 
and did actually become the ruling spirit of the policy 
of Europe, it was this spirit which for many ages 
formed and gave away kingdoms ; this which created the 
anointed lords over them, or again excommunicated and 
execrated these sovereigns ; this, that united and allied 
the various nations, or plunged them into war and blood- 
shed ; this, that formed the balance of the power of the 
whole, and actuated the second grand scene of Europe's 
history. 



105 



"But since the people of Europe have formed their 
communiccition with the commerce of Asia, — have been 
for some ages past settling on all sides of the Atlantic 
Ocean, and in America have been possessing every seat 
and channel of commerce, and have planted and raised 
that to an interest which has taken root ; — since they 
now feel the powers derived from this, and are ex- 
tending it to and combining it with others, the spirit of 
commerce will become that predominant power, which 
will form the general policy and rule the powers of 
Europe ; and hence a grand commercial interest, the 
basis of a great commercial dominion under the present 
state and circumstances of the world, will be formed and 
arise. The rise and forming of this commercial interest 
is what constitutes precisely the present crisis." 

The author's general descrijjtion is correct; the sword, 
religion, and commerce, have heen the dominant princi- 
ples of the three periods, in which the fabled succes- 
sion by the ancients of the golden, silver, and iron ages, 
has been reversed in our favour. Governor Pownal 
wrote the work which has been cited sixty years ago, 
and every year since has developed more and more 
the prevalence of commerce and its beneficent conse- 
quences. It is indeed true, that tedious and wasting 
wars have defaced this period, and impeded, though 
they could not arrest, the progress of general prosperi- 
ty. Fearful approaches were recently made by one 
nation, towards renewing the blasting rule of the sword ; 
but the utter discomfiture of that power will operate 
against a rei)etition of the attempt, which can never 
again be made under so favourable circumstances for 
even a chance of success. 

The motives to aid the extension of the commercial 
9* 



106 



spirit, understood in its widest sense, are sufficiently 
strong to give them a decisive influence in the views of 
ambition and power, if they seek only their own gra- 
tification and enlargement, and not the degradation, as 
well as the command, of mankind. Take for instance 
the most prominent objects of Roman grandeur, their 
public works. They were magnificent; their roads, 
aqueducts, temples, theatres, and palaces; but they have 
been equalled or surpassed in modern times. If canals 
be added to roads, as they should be in the calculation, 
they will stand higher on the scale than even the celebra- 
ted ways of the Roman. Aqueducts we do not show, 
because a better knowledge of hydraulics has super- 
seded them. In temples, they cannot compare with ours 
in size, or architectural science, though they may in 
beautiful and chaste designs, which were perfected by 
the Greeks. In theatres they were more vast and im- 
posing, and the use they made of them was more bar- 
barous and ignoble; in palaces they did not exceed the 
splendour, and were inferior to the accommodation of 
modern edifices. Rut what was the state of the people 
at the different periods ? Under the Roman empire, 
with the exception of a very small number, the whole 
population were soldiers or labourers; a single dress of 
woollen constituted their whole wardrobe; their dwel- 
lings were mere niches, and all their pleasure, baths, 
theatres and gymnasia, were public eleemosynary fa- 
vours. In modern times, while all these grand monu- 
ments have been created, a constant accumulation of 
comfort has been going on ; society has been improved 
and divided by imperceptible gradations into numerous 
classes, of which the meanest was equal to what consti- 
tuted the mass of ancient population. Even for the 



107 



purposes ol' conquest, the commercial system has been 
the most efficient, and has furnished the means of ob- 
taining possessions, which the Roman legions never 
could have reached. Commerce not only increases 
the power of the government, but at the same time 
advances the improvement of the people. 1 may recall 
to your mind on this topic a line remark of Gibbon : 
after describing the luxury and ostentation of some 
of the Roman patricians, he says ; " Yet the multipli- 
" cation of glass and linen gives a modern private gen- 
" tleman more real comforts and luxury, than a Ro- 
" man proconsul could enjoy with the plunder of a 
" province." 

If it be true, that the age of the sword was less con- 
ducive, not only to the happiness of mankind, but 
even to its own purposes, than the nge of commerce, 
it is equally and more strikingly evident, that the 
age of religion continued the calamities of mankind, 
by the incessant wars it engendered, and would inevita- 
bly have destroyed its pretended object altogether, if 
the enormity of its abuses had not produced the Refor- 
mation, and laid the way for its subversion. It cannot 
be necessary to say, that you will understand the au- 
thor's meaning and mine in the use of this term, reli- 
gion. The feelings of real religion produced the 
second era of which he speaks, but the foul adulterous 
spirit of despotism soon usurped its place, and wearing 
its mask, made Europe for centuries one wide scene 
of oppression, misery and devastation. Pure religion 
withered away, and a hideous superstition grew up in its 
place, which engendered innumerable abuses, though it 
sometimes stayed the career of profligate hypocrisy, and 
compensated for some of its mischiefs, by occasionally ob- 



108 



structing the cause of those who made use of its agen- 
cy. That union of the priest and magistrate, of poli- 
tics and religion was then effected, by which the latter 
became subservient to the former, and entailed upon 
mankind an overwhelming burden of abuse. The 
evils arising from this cause are slowly removed; they 
are still felt in every nation of Europe, and the deep 
root they have taken makes it almost impossible to era- 
dicate them. Perfect toleration is the only specific, 
and this is so obstinately opposed, that an entire cure 
will be a distant event, although partial remedies have 
mitigated the disorder. We are fortunately wholly 
emancipated, and the advantageous consequences are 
shown not only in our religious condition, but in the 
freedom and simplicity of action in our political move- 
ments. 

How much more efficient is the influence of com- 
merce for the advancement of religion, than the domina- 
tion of religion itself? What advantages did religion derive 
from the actions or preaching of Peter the hermit, and 
the whole host of crusaders ? Has not the founding of 
a single commercial colony done more for the establish- 
ment and diffusion of religious truth, than all the hosts 
which, in the " age of religion," Europe precipitated 
on Asia? Does not the intercourse of commerce, by 
making men and languages known to each other, cause 
the light of truth to shine wherever commerce has 
penetrated ? And have we not reason to think that the 
modern Bible Societies, aided by the facilities which 
commercial intercourse procures, will do more for the 
cause of truth, without any violence or any oppression, 
in one century, than were effected in ten, hy all the 
colleges of the Propagandists? 



109 



I am here aitaching to the terms commerce, and the 
commercial spirit, a very extensive meaning; I consider 
them as having a bearing on every class of society. 
In fact, it is not the professed merchant and trader only, 
who are in our times connected with commerce; the com- 
mercial spirit is universal, and pervades all classes in a 
degree. The modern state of the world is wholly 
different from the ancient in this respect, and is becom- 
ing more so ; it is this difl'erence which constitutes our 
superiority. It is this which affects the cultivator of 
the earth, the artisan, and all those likewise whose 
operations are connected with mental labour. It is 
this which has stimulated the latent powers of produc- 
tion, and fertilized the wide fields of human exertion. 
It is this activity of the principle of commerce, that is 
alternately the cause and effect of our liberty, enter- 
prise, science, and morality. It is this therefore which 
has made known the rights, enlarged the capacity, mul- 
tiplied the comforts, and ameliorated the condition 
of mankind. 

In the time of the ancients, those nations which 
dwell under inhospitable skies were very little supe- 
rior in any thing they possessed, to our Choctaws and 
Seminoles; and those who lived in more fortunate cli- 
mates, displayed their grandeur and power principally 
in war. The people at large must have been poorer; 
as ignorant, and with as little motive for exertion as the 
Turks. One ship like those engaged in the trade 
between Europe and India, would have transported all 
the merchandise, with the exceptions of corn, wine, and 
oil, that came annually for the supply of even imperial 
Home. Property existed in much fewer shapes ; 
land, palaces, plate, pictures, statues, and slaves, were 



110 



ihe chief investments of it; the wealth thus employed 
was commonly the spoils of a vanquished enemy, and 
held by a few patrician families; the people at large 
had no motive to labour, except for daily sustenance; 
there were few gradations to produce the constant ex- 
citement of rivalry and effort to better their situation; 
the disparity was too great to give any hope of attaining 
that vast wealth which was in the hands of a few, and 
of whose ostentatious gratuities they were content to 
partake, in frequenting the baths or the theatres. If 
panis et circenses was the popular cry in the decline of 
the empire, it was bread alone, in poorer and more 
virtuous times. 

Till the conclusion of the 15th century, it was but 
little better ; in modern times the baron, the priest 
and the peasant, comprised almost all the distinctions 
in society. The latter received just enough of the 
produce of his labour to keep him from starving, and 
the surplus was divided between the two former. A 
comparatively small number of mechanics were suffi- 
cient to make the few rude articles of dress and furni- 
ture that were then in use. The moneyed transactions 
that occurred were in the hands of Jews, who were 
held in such contempt and oppression, that their agency 
could be neither extensive or honourable. The few 
shops then seen must have made such a paltry display 
of wares, as is now exhibited in the poorest suburbs of 
modern cities. A pedlar was the richest dealer in a 
district, and he supplied, in his rambling visits, not only, 
the cottage of the serf, but the castle of the master. 
Canals were unknown and roads impassable; transpor- 
tation of commodities was almost impracticable; the 
exchange of products was therefore but little practised; 



Ill 



the corn, wine, oil, and wool that were produced in a 
province, were consumed within it, excepting some of 
the countries on the shores of the Mediterranean, on 
which sea were to be found almost all the vessels that 
carried on the commerce of Europe. 

I have here recalled to your mind the circumstances 
of former times in this general outline, only to show 
the contrast with the present, and thus infer the supe- 
riority of the influence of commerce over the other 
two ruling principles. With the added success of 
several centuries of conquest, what did the power of the 
sword produce, but the colossal grandeur of the eternal 
city and the slavery of every country in Europe ? With 
the unlimited devotion of men's minds, with a universal 
fanaticism, and a trembling unconditional submission to 
its decrees, what did the domination of religion, in the 
exercise of political power, produce in the course of 
ten centuries, but some gigantic churches, some vast 
convents, a few illuminated MSS. and universal igno- 
rance and superstition ? What has been effected by 
the influence of commerce in a little mere than three 
centuries ? let the prosperity of the civilized world, 
and the daily extension of its limits, be the answer. 

The pervading, powerful agency of the commercial 
principle, is a subject of admiration, and the era of its 
rule seems destined to carry society to its highest capa- 
i bility of improvement, and perhaps to furnish the pre- 
1 ventives of national decay. It acts as the universal 
1 stimulus to production, and makes what is produced the 
' .certain means of acquiring wealth. The acquisition of 
I this induces and sustains every other acquisition, liber- 
i ty, comfort, instruction, morality, and religion. Every 
I individual in society is animated by this influence, a? 



112 



every thing he can produce is marketable: men do not 
limit themselves to the mere attainment of sustenance; 
whatever may be their pursuit, each strives tO'Create a 
surplus by his labour beyond his own immediate wants, 
to secure a greater power of ulterior gratification. 
This impulse extends the limits of intercourse every 
year, multiplies the mass of exchangeable products, and 
of course accumulates the general amount of property, 
or the results of human industry. It equalizes the gifts 
of Providence, and levels the condition of his creatures; 
by it, distant nations are brought into communication, 
and each is enabled to profit not only by the barter of 
commodities, but by the observation of every kind of 
improvement. A new fruit is obtained from one, a ma- 
chine from another, a wise regulation from a third. 
Climate no longer prevents this man from eating sugar, 
or deprives that one of bread. The vast capabilities of 
the earth are thrown into one common stock, which is 
open to universal competition, and from which intelli- 
gence and industry are sure to derive the largest 
portion. 

The absurdity on reflection must be apparent, though 
it still occurs occasionally, of talking about a commercial 
interest separate from that of the community, in any 
extensive nation; and the attempt to inspire a jealousy 
of it is unwise and mischievous. The merchants for 
instance in the United States, numerous and important 
as their operations have become, are only the factors 
for the rest of the nation. Their interests cannot be 
different on any great points. Their concerns and those 
of the agriculturist are intimately blended. We have 
learnt, from severe experience, that restrictions on them 
almost immediately affect the whole country. It is like 



113 



ihrowing a dam across the mouth ot' a river; the 
current is first checked there, but the flood recedes till 
it stagnates in its most distant fountains. The planter, 
farmer, mechanic, and very soon the professional man, 
are affected injuriously by any hinderance to free trade. 
The commercial action is to the nation what the circula- 
tion of the blood is to the body; it carries vitality and 
nutriment to every part. 

Europe still suffers under the prevalence of maxims 
founded in times of comparative ignorance and barbarity. 
The restrictions in the commerce of grain, in the 
exportation of specie, and in other articles of merchan- 
dise, are obstacles to public prosperity. Some of these 
questions are attended with such serious consequences; 
the minority which gains by monopoly, always pertina- 
cious, however small, throw so many alarms in the way 
of an improved system, that the advances towards it are 
slow. Then the rivalries and animosities between 
different stcites, the embarrassments caused by their 
colonial system, and the enormous exactions of the tisc, 
render amelioration hopeless, so long as the warlike 
establishments of those countries shall consume so large 
a part of their substance, and intimidate their statesmen 
from trying alterations which may throw any hazard on 
the means of supporting them. How fortunate is our 
condition in this respect; without colonies to restrict or 
to favour, without military establishments beyond the 
wants of defence; with every part of our territory on 
an equal footing, all its productions freely exported, and 
no foreign ones prohibited, the freedom of commerce is 
here perfect and its benefits incalculable. 

The state of commerce, as it now exists in the world, 
has rendered many prejudices, originally just, and long 
10 



114 



hereditary, now obsolete. When the merchants of the 
world were in proportion to its commerce, and little 
more than a groupe of peddlers and usurers, it was 
allowable to view them with contempt or hatred. But 
when their operations have extended, till a single indi- 
vidual employs more persons, and receires a greater 
income, than some princes, the case is altered. We 
have lately seen, that one of them might almost be 
considered a party at the Congress of Aix le Chapelle, 
without whose agency, at least, the sovereigns could not 
have terminated their arrangements. Mercantile trans- 
actions, by the extension of commerce, are widely 
diffused, and every man who has any thing beyond his 
own wants, is obliged to partake of them. The agri- 
culturist who employs any capital, must.be extensively 
engaged in buying and selling; and he must be conver- 
sant with many commercial transactions, and keep 
in view the general state of commerce, or he will be a 
great loser. There are, besides, a large number of 
individuals, who as bankers, insurers, stockholders, or 
adventurers in diiferent voyages, employ their capital in 
trade, though in a manner that leaves them great leisure 
for amusements or instruction. It is these numerous 
classes of individuals, with characters more or less 
elevated, that connect the profession of commerce with 
the leading ranks of society. Education in a free 
country is the chief test of respectability, and as the 
sons of merchants receive the same education with' 
those of princes, and often profit by it more, it is the ■ 
fault or the choice of the individual if his station be no(?t 
conspicuous. 

The results of enlarged commerce have been so 
numerous and important; the changes it has made ini 



115 



society have been so beneficent, that I do not know 
whether I be too extravai^ant to hope that posterity may 
owe a diminution of war to this source. As people ac- 
quire property, instruction and feeling of their rights, 
and the habit of examining public affairs and judging 
questions of general interest, they may hereafter be- 
come too wise to sufl'er kings to play so often at the 
game of war. That the practice of war should be 
foregone altogether, we cannot expect nor wish. With 
all its evils, it produces some good effects. It may be 
the corruption of our nature if you please, but it seems 
natural to man. It brings out some of his virtues, and 
sustains the high and noble feeling, which makes personal 
safety a subordinate consideration. It gives frequent ex- 
amples of maidiness, magnanimit}', and the sacrifice of 
selfishness on the altar of patriotism. It abashes and 
humiliates that tone of cant and hypocrisy which ava- 
rice and cowardice often assume, to screen their mean- 
ness under the disguise of philanthropy and religion. 
It, besides, employs a number of people, who from their 
peculiar character would be only nuisances in society; 
and if they had no other resort, would become private 
bullies and assassins ; though the same people under 
military discipline, guided by superior minds and excited 
by a certain standard of honour, may make excellent 
" food for powder," and contribute to the defence of 
their country. But if the increase of intelligence and 
personal independence, which are produced by the ex- 
tension of commerce; if this should stimulate the citi- 
zens of every country in Europe to insist on a reduc- 
tion of the oppressive and useless military establish- 
ments, which devour so much of their industry; if they 
vould endure only a small army for the personal 



116 



gratification of the sovereign and the necessary defence 
of the country against the surprise of sudden invasion, 
and diminish the scale of military achievements, to a 
kind of pompous gladiatorial combats, we might then 
hope for that splendid era which would deprive war 
of its sting, and confirm the prosperity and improvements 
of mankind. This era you may think would be too 
near an approach to the millennium, to be expected in 
our age. When all civilized nations in a feeling of uni- 
versal comity, and enlarged views of individual as well 
as general interests, should agree in removing the re- 
strictions from commerce that mutually oppress them, 
and should insist that the oppralions of war should not 
interfere, except in the case of a besieged fortress, with 
the subsistence of mankind, or the rewards of their 
industry; that inoffensive productions should circulate 
freely, and be exempt from capture ; then would 
war be a comparatively harmless struggle, in which the 
minions of glory would be the only sufferers; when its 
destruction would be confined to a single plain, or a 
solitary fortress, and not, as we now behold it, plundering 
the palace and the cottage, devastating provinces, cover- 
ing kingdoms with ruin; and by its insatiable demands, 
consuming the blood and substance of nations, involving 
the victor and the vanquished in one common oppres- 
sion, i\iining the latter by its defeats, and enfeebling the 
former by its triumphs. 



117 

LETTER V. 

Literature. 

My dear Sir, 

The past and present state of American literature, 
and the hopes which may be entertained in respect to it, 
you know have of late years been frequently discussed 
by those who felt an interest in the subject, 'ihe cir- 
cumstances which have influenced it hitherto, and those 
which can be expected to promote it hereafter, have 
been dwelt upon by many patriotic minds, who were 
anxious about the real and lasting glory of their coun- 
try. So many just and acute disquis^itions have been 
made, that there is little chance of saying any thing new; 
but to fulfil my intentions and promises, when we last 
conversed on the subject, I must attempt to give you 
some account of the literary condition and prospects 
of this section of the Union, without attempting to go 
out of these limits. 

The first colonists of Massachusetts and Connecticut, 
from which the other eastern states derive their origin 
and general character, were some of them men of 
learning, who were led to expatriate themselves, by the 
joint impulse of promoting education and enjoying their 
religious opinions undisturbed ; the latter, indeed, was 
by far the strongest and most vehement motive, yet they 
considered the former its most essential support. They 
founded a college, tiierofore, to prepare aliment for the 
mind, before their cultivation of the soil was sufficient- 
ly extended to guiirantee them against a famine for the 
body. A generation had hardly elapsed, from the first 
10* 



1 



landing of the forefathers, before they were followed by 
many learned and pious men, who fled from persecution 
so much more eagerly, when they came to a colony, 
where not only their religious opinions could be en- 
joyed, but their learning obtained for them the highest 
reverence and distinction. The scattered settlements 
along the shores of Massachusetts and Connecticut, 
which on the map of our now extensive empire can 
hardly be made visible, were not inhabited, as is often 
the case in a new colony, by men of forlorn prospects 
and ruined characters, or by desperate, expelled out- 
casts ; but by gentlemen and yeomen of England, who, 
in a period of stern religious dissent, went into a volun- 
tary, distant exile, to preserve what they considered the 
truth. These solitary villages, hardly indenting the vast 
forest that overshadowed the continent, where labour 
and frugality never relaxed their cares, where every 
thing luxurious withered before the energy of body and 
mind, maintained by the daily encounter of hardship 
and danger; in these lone villages, there were to be found 
as teachers and leaders of the flock, men who united all 
the learning of the schools to the piety and zeal of the 
confessors and martyrs. These men, who had been 
bred in the antique cloisters of Oxford and Cambridge, 
with habits and views that ordinarily lead to timid ap- 
prehensions of every thing new, and a reluctant change 
of locality, cheerfully came to what was then called the 
new, and might almost be considered another world, — 
and here exhorted their fellow pilgrims to constancy. 
Sometimes their discourse was held in the deep shades 
of moss-grown forests, whose gloom and interlaced bows 
first suggested that Gothic architecture, beneath whose 
pointed arches, where they had studied and prayed, the l 



i 



119 



parti-coloured windows shed a tinged light ; scenes 
which the gleams of sunshine, penetrating the deep fo- 
liage and flickering on the variegated turf below, might 
have recalled to their memory. 

Though religion was the chief, nay, almost the exclu- 
sive motive for the cultivation of learning by our ances- 
tors, they were not wholly neglectlul of the natural 
sciences, which have since that period been so prodi- 
giously developed. It is a singular fact, that the first 
founders of the Royal Society of England meditated the 
romantic idea of coming to this country, to devote them- 
selves wholly to the pursuit of science. This singu- 
lar conception was abandoned, but one or two of them 
came here, and were in constant correspondence with 
the Society at home. But to rear teachers of the gos- 
pel was the main purpose for which the first colleges 
were founded. The ancient languages, Latin, Greek, 
and Hebrew, divinity, logic, and philosoph}', such as 
they were in that period, were the only objects of study. 

Having so early founded a college for teaching some 
of the higher branches of learning, it may be supposed 
that they did not overlook the utility of widely diffusing 
the advantages of the common kinds of instruction. This 
was attended to from the beginning ; laws were enacted 
from time to time, until it became the imperative duty 
of every town to maintain a public school ; and at pre- 
sent these must be so supported as to give every child 
the means of instruction. In Connecticut the expense 
is defrayed by a fund belonging to the state, amounting to 
1,500,000 dollars, the income of which is paid over to 
each town in certain relative proportions. In ttie other 
eastern states it is done by each town taxing itself 
to keep open a school for a part of the year, generally 



120 



during the winter months. In these schools, reading, 
writing, and arithmetic are taught, and every family has 
a right to send its children. The consequence is, that 
the rudiments of education are more universally disse- 
minated than over any district of equal extent in the 
world ; and but few instances can be found in this popu- 
lation, verging towards two millions, of native indivi- 
duals who cannot read and write. Next to these common 
schools, come the grammar schools, which are maintain- 
ed in the more populous towns, and the scale of tuition 
in these is higher. Then come the incorporated schools, 
called academies, of which there are thirty or forty in 
Massachusetts, and a considerable number in the other 
states ; these are supported partly by private funds, 
and by a moderate sum paid for tuition. Writing, arith- 
metic, geography, elocution, and the languages, are 
taught in most of them sufficiently to meet the-lexamina- 
tion for entering college. Each state has one or more 
colleges — Connecticut one, Rhode Island one, New- 
Hampshire one, Vermont two, Maine one, and Massa- 
chusetts three, including the Andover Theological Col- 
lege. The foundation at Cambridge, which dates from 
1639, is the only one that is, perhaps, strictly entitled to 
the appellation of University. The college at New- 
Haven, founded in 1704, is the next in point of reputa- 
tion, as well as age. New-Hampshire and Khode Island 
come next. The college at Brunswick, in Maine, is in 
a growing state, and though of recent date, enjoys con- 
siderable rep\itation. 

Through these different schools the whole rising 
generation is at least taught to read and write. The 
higher class of schools produce annually a large number 
who have acquired something of the languages, geogra- 



121 



phy, iic. besides those who are bred in many respecta- 
ble private schools, where the tuition is commonly more 
effective, as the pupils are fewer in number and the ex- 
pense greater. Last come the colleges and the univer- 
sity, which perhaps confer degrees, one year with 
another, on about three hundred young men, without in- 
cluding those belonging to other states. These have, in 
their four years residence, pursued the languages, the 
belles lettres, history, natural and moral philosophy, 
the mathematics, and heard lectures on theology, law, 
chemistry, botany, and the medical branches of science, 
which last, however, is optional. Some of the colleges 
are deficient in some of these branches, and some of 
them are filled by a more able professor in one institu- 
tion than at another. The use of lectures as a means of 
teaching is increasing in our establishments, and in some 
departments we may boast as valuable courses of lec- 
tures, and as able professors, as can be found in any 
country. 

The ability to read must then be universal ; the man- 
ner in which it is exercised of course varies with the 
situation, instruction and tastes of the individual. The 
Bible is the most read of all other books ; it would cer- 
tainly be difficult to find a house without one. Next to 
this, in the houses of the poorer classes will be found 
popular religious tracts, of which great numbers, as well 
as of the Bible, are now annually distributed, gratis. 
Next to these in frequency are volumes of popular poe- 
try, travels, or cotemporaneous works, exciting patriotic 
feelings, or the political sympathies of the times. Then 
come the favourite novelists and poets of the day, By- 
ron, Scott, Miss Edgeworth, &,c. whose works, published 
in a cheap, small form, are spread every where. Lastly, 



J22 



come a few with a literary or scieulilic taste, who pos- 
sess the standard works in modern hterature, the an- 
cient classics, and splendid works in the sciences. Such 
libraries are not very numerous, — still less can they be 
called extensive, when compared with the private col- 
lections in some countries of Europe ; but there are 
some respectable ones, and the taste for owning really 
valuable works is increasing. I do not know of any 
private library among us containing more than five thou- 
sand volumes, but there are many that exceed one or 
two thousand. 

We have been, and still are much more in the habit 
of reading books, than making them ; still, the number 
we have produced is greater than most persons would 
suppose, or than might have been expected under our 
circumstances. The earliest efforts were some small 
descriptive works, printed in England, written soon af- 
ter the first settlement of the country, and which are by 
no means deficient in interest to those who are fond of 
investigating our early history. Next, come sermons, 
religious controversy, and metaphysical religion, spread 
into bewildering subtleties, or obstruse, incomprehen- 
sible doctrines, — sad trash, of which hardly a single 
volume has now an}'^ value. This class of books has 
always, and does still, form the largest in our pro- 
ductions ; but its relative magnitude is daiiy lessening, 
and its merit increasing. Polemical religion is not much 
to the taste of the day; and a religious disputant can gain 
but few readers, and still fewer admirers. If a man is 
affected with this mania, the best cure for him, without 
taking the thousands of folios that crowd some of the 
theological libraries of Europe, would be to show him 
the collection of what has been done here ; how little 



123 

the cause ol'liutli has been served by this kind ot'strile, 
and how worthless are all these dingy volumes. Some 
of our public libraries, in order to make their collection 
complete, have copies of them all, which are no where 
else to be found ; for most of these works, like the Vi- 
car of Wakefield's Treatise on Monogamy, became scarce 
even in the life-time of their authors. But the same im- 
provement has taken place in this, as in other branches 
of our literature. We have had some sermons publish- 
ed within a few years, that will be always read with 
pleasure. 

The next class in point of number, and the first in 
value, have been journals, histories, and biography; — 
with the aid of these, we have a very complete chro- 
nology, from the earliest settlement of the country, and 
a tolerable account of the principal individuals who are 
connected with our history. The constant Indian wars, 
and the hostilities with the French, form the themes of 
many narratives. Biography of the governors, of men 
who distinguished themselves in the border wars, of 
clergymen who were remarkable for their learning or 
influence, are the chief subjects. Most of these works 
we owe to clergymen, who were for some generations 
the only professional men possessed of respectability 
and talents, it is only during the two last generations 
that physicians and lawyers have been men of learning 
and celebrity. Next comes poetry, and miscellaneous 
works in the belles-lettres ; religion or politics have 
been the prevailing motives of the former. Connecti- 
cut has been the principal nursery of this species of 
talent. Many of tbf;se productions are respectable, and 
certainly as worthy of preservation as the works of 
several of the minor 'poets, who are enrolled in English 



124 



collections of poetr3\ But none of it is of the first clasj 
and therefore a very lasting reputation cannot be found- 
ed upon it ; for mediocrity in poetry is like staleness in 
champagne ; and we have it on very ancient and very 
decisive authority, that neither gods nor men will tole- 
rate indifferent poetry. Still, I believe the productions 
of some of these writers will form part of future collec- 
tions of American poetry, — partly as early specimens, 
partly, because there was a good deal of patriotic and 
ardent feeling in the writers, that made them very popu- 
lar at the time, — and because, if not very brilliant, the 
versification was flowing and correct. 

I have not noticed political writings, but these have 
been very abundant. The Revolution,, the adoption of the 
Federal Constitution, and the parties that grew up under 
it, have furnished innumerable pamphlets, and some 
solid volumes. By far the greater number of these 
were ephemeral, and can now only be met with on the 
shelves of collectors : they were too often written with 
all the bitterness and prejudice of party spirit, and were 
forgotten with the temporary purpose they were meant 
to answer. But there are some honourable exceptions, 
and this period has furnished some treatises that will 
enter into the studies of all future statesmen. The De- 
fence of the American Constitutions, and the Federal- 
ist, will certainly be of this description. 

I have omitted, in the account of our reading, to 
mention newspapers : — these are so numerous, so cheap 
and so miscellaneous, that they are dispersed every 
where. Upwards of a dozen are published in Boston, 
two in Salem, Portsmouth, Portland, Hallowell, Provi- 
dence, Hartford, New-Haven, &c. — and almost every 
county has one. They carry their various topics into 



125 



pvcry dwelling ; each political party has its own, and 
whatever taste becomes considerably spread, soon has a 
printer to purvey for it. Thus, there is one of these 
papers that espouses the cause of masonry, another that 
gives an account of religious missions, revivals, kc. 
Every body reads newspapers; — the market-man, riding 
home in his cart, will be often seen poring over their 
pages; — they are found, not only in every inn, as iu 
England, but in almost every farmer's house. All read; 
all get a smattering of the events as they pass,- — and 
many acquire an idle, desultory habit, from going over 
the strange medley of these endless gazettes, that inca- 
pacitates them from pursuing a steady and solid course 
of reading. 

The discouragements to which our literature is ex- 
posed, have been well pointed out; — I will touch for a 
moment on a few of them. The greatest, and the most 
obvious, was the constant supply of very superior ar- 
ticles, to use the language of trade, from England. In 
this, as in coarser branches of manufacture, it was almost 
in vain to enter into competition. Her scholars Avere 
already made, and supj)lied with every advantage for 
their labours. Her literary capital was great ; her 
taste and learning long matured, and in every thing of a 
finer texture she could furnish us better and cheaper 
than we did ourselves. Still, every people must have 
something peculiar in their situation, and learn to pre- 
pare for themselves what this peoiliarity renders neces- 
sary', and also such things, the want of wliich is con- 
stantly occurring. We soon ceased to import horse- 
shoes and almanacs. As one of the earliest manufac- 
tures we possessed was that of thread-lace, so one of 

the first productions of our literature was poetry. This 

11 



126 



particularly flourished about the time we became a na- 
tion. As we could not expect our enemies to prepare 
patriotic verses for us, we were obliged to make them 
for ourselves. In this fervid era, enthusiasm naturally 
led to the production of poetry, and more considerable 
works were undertaken under that excitement, than we 
have produced since. In the mean time, skill and capi- 
tal, to continue this borrowed phraseology, have both 
been accumulating, and there are some branches where 
the wants of the country are now in a great degree, and 
soon will be entirely, supplied at home. Such, for in- 
stance, as law, medicine, theology, politics, domestic 
biography, and history. Several of the sciences are 
beginning to show specimens of our acquirements, which 
are both elegant and profound, and the prospect of 
a rapid growth of our literary reputation is extremely 
animating. 

Besides the discouragement to labour in the field 
of literature, here produced by the great superiority of 
those who cultivated it in England, and whose works, 
from being in the same language, were equally acces- 
sible to us as to them; another disadvantage arose 
from the want of wealth and leisure, or in other 
words, from the necessity and benefit of devoting all 
our faculties to more material pursuits. The forests 
were to be prostrated, the land tilled, the sea naviga- 
ted. There was little superfluous wealth amassed; 
almost every man's existence depended upon his labour, 
and those who were exempt from this necessity, were 
obliged to devote themselves to the various cares of 
regulating and administering the concerns of society; 
for which employment honour was the chief recom- 
pense, as their fellow citizens could not or would not 



127 



V»ay those who served them. Thus, in hi]>ouring for 
his family or the public, every man's exertions were 
needed, and till a recent period, every thing that was 
written among us, was produced by magistrates and 
clergymen, in those gleanings of time which they 
could make from their professional vocations. Very 
profound researches, or very tinished disquisitions, 
could not be looked for under these circumstances. 
The works that were written were for local and 
temporary purposes, or they were narratives of 
events, furnishing invaluable documents to future 
historians. 

The scattered position of our population, and the 
want of large towns, was an obstruction. The urbanity, 
the atticism, or by wliatever name that tone of good 
taste may be called, which can never harmonize with 
rusticity or vulgarity, cannot exist unless formed by 
the concentration of large cities. Without a metro- 
polis, where individual prejudice and conceit will be 
confounded and put down by the collision of equal or 
superior minds, there will be always a provincial 
air discoverable in all works of literature, that will 
disqualify them for general circulation. They exhibit 
a sort of dialect of ideas, as well as of words, of which 
the former is much more intolerable than the latter. 
In England and France there are works published every 
year in the provinces that exemplify this defect, and which 
never get beyond their own vicinity. This state of 
things, from which we are beginning to emerge, pro- 
duced its natural effect. We had no large towns, where, 
out of the congregation of opinions, every defect and every 
beauty was sure to be remarked, and another thus enabled 
to form a correct model. Our seminaries were rather for 



128 



the instruction of boys than men ; there were no more 
persons employed in them than was necessary for the 
former purpose ; and as there were no matured minds 
residing at them, engaged in the pursuit of the higher 
branches of study, even the limited competency of 
collegiate society was wanting in the formation of a 
pure taste. In every department of the belles-lettres, 
particularly those which partake of satire and sportive 
wit, this would be most strongly shown. The pro- 
ductions of Connecticut furnish astriking example of this, 
n6t only because they were most numerous, but because 
the influence alluded to was wholly wanting. They 
exhibited strong, acute, and witty minds, which if they 
had breathed any other atmosphere than that of a village, 
might have formed accomplished writers. 7'he peo- 
ple of these states have a strong love and perception 
of humour, but it is clothed in a rustic dress. The 
equality of condition carries this style of humour 
among men of all professions, and these writers in 
question imbibed ' ils rusticity, often yielding to it 
against even their better judgment, that their wri- 
tings might be more easily relished by those imme- 
diately about them. The consequence has been, that 
even genuine wit was degraded by its associations, till 
it became maukish to a correct taste. Their sweet- 
ness resembles more the flavour of that popular com- 
modity of which we annually drain the West Indies, 
than the honey of Mount Hymettus. The productions of 
minds fraught with classic images, were adapted to 
village comprehension; their Apollo was the god in exile 
and disguise, tending the flocks of Admetus in Thessaly, 
playing with the reed of Pan to shepherds and cottagers, 
and striking the lyre to the listening Muses and Graces 
on Parnassus. 



129 



There is one branch of literature, in which vre have 
produced nothing that will go down to the next genera- 
tion, though several attempts have been made. I speak 
of the drama ; our failure of success here is owing to 
various causes. All the prominent and most natural 
subjects of tragedy and comedy have long since been 
brought into action on the French and English stage. 
Nothing was left to modern writers, but to invent some 
new and complicated plot, or to seize upon the passing 
ridicule of theday for the amusement of an audience: even 
these resources are not inexhaustible, and the English 
theatre, so far as the author? are concerned, has been 
gradually deteriorating, till at last legitimate tragedy and 
comedy have been almost lost, and pantomime, with all 
its powerful accompaniments of music, dancing and 
scenery, has nearly got possession of the stage. In 
this exhaustion of subjects, we of course were equally 
at a loss, but we had in addition other disadvantages to 
struggle with. 'Tis less than a generation since we 
have had a theatre at all, and even now the Boston 
theatre is the only regular one in the eastern states- 
Stage plays were held in abomination by our puritan 
ancestors; and a repeal of the hnv against them in the 
state of Massachusetts, was obtained after a hard strug- 
gle, and only as regarded the c pital. Th* first theatre 
opened here was before the repeal, and the plays were 
called, "■Moral Lectures:'^ thus an advertisement ran; 
^' This evening will be performed a moral lecture, called 
The School for Scandal,^ &c. The tnagisirat^is, with a 
due discretion and regard to public opinion, winked at 
this evasion, till just at the close of the season, when 
they int*:rfer;d. i he repeal took place at the next 

tie?sion of the legislature. 

li* 



130 



5fou may recollect the story of the German burgo- 
master, who told his sovereign on his entering the city, 
that they did not fire a salute for six reasons; the first 
was, that they had no cannon; when the prince, good- 
naturedly, spared him a recital of the remainder. Now 
you may think it a sufficient excuse, that we have 
not produced plays when we were without a theatre; 
but still the topic suggests some further observations. 
We are nearly in the position of Ireland and Scotland 
towards England as regards the stage. Ireland and 
Scotland have no drama of their own, though they have 
marked peculiarities of character, a distinct dialect, 
and many traditions, and romantic adventures, appro- 
priate to themselves. Yet they have never recurred 
to these; they submit to the dictature of the metropoli- 
tan stage, from which they derive all their scenic 
representations, and on which they seldom appear 
except in an odious or ridiculous character. Mac- 
beth and Douglas are indeed from Scottish history, 
but the) were written for the English stage. In the 
case of Scotland, this seems remarkable, as their roman- 
tic history is not only a favourite theme with them, but 
with others ; and their peculiar dialect, which they 
are so fond of regaining, and with which all their novels 
and poetry is infected, would have its value in the . 
drama also. They have, in addition, a national music, 
which is by all nations admitted to be beautiful ; 
they have a large and splendid metropolis, where a 
good deal of national pride exists; and it would seem 
as if no country in Europe could have more interesting 
national operas than the Scotch, and yet I do not know 
that any attempt in this way was ever made by them. 
Perhaps, the narrow and bigoted spirit of the Presby- 



131 



terians, like that of our puritans, proscribed the theatre. 
Now, we are without some of the advantages for the 
drama possessed by the Scotch, particularly in (heir 
music, and we are, like them, without any actors of our 
own, and depend upon foreign performers. This is 
better, as far as regards English plays, but it is in vain 
to expect to introduce our own customs and manners on 
the stage, until we have a race of native actors who can 
personate them. In some attempts that have been 
made, an English actor attempting to personate a Yankee 
clown, would introduce his Yorkshire or Somersetshire 
cant, but this no more represented it, than it did an Irish- 
man or a Scotchman. Every country has its particular 
style of humour and manners, and so has ours, and 
none but a native can exhibit the marked peculiarity of 
these, without which all comic zest is destroyed. 

In the progress of time we shall doubtless have a 
national theatre, and then local peculiarities will furnish 
resources for comedy. There are some periods of our 
history which will furnish posterity with highly dra- 
matic subjects. This mine must be worked by posteri- 
ty; what will be deeply interesting to them, runs into 
the absurd with cotemporaries. A few years since, a 
tragedy was brought forward and played several nights, 
founded on one of the memorable events of the Kevo- 
lution; one of the principal characters was that of a 
distinguished officer, who derived much amusement by 
going to the theatre to see himself represented. The 
premature blending of fact and fancy together in a 
drama, will make even the most serious subjects ludi- 
crous. In the calculation of chances, it may be pre- 
sumed that some of the future attempts will succeed, 
though to write a good play under the inspiration of 



132 



either Muse, is one of the most difficult productions of 
literature. I presume more than a dozen tragedies, 
comedies, and farces, have been brought forward on the 
Boston stage since it was established, which have 
seldom struggled more than a night or two; a much 
greater number have been written than have ever been 
attempted on the stage, though they may have been 
printed, commonly to the subsequent regret of the au- 
thor. I knew one of these a few years since that 
produced a useful effect, though it was not on the stage. 
A member of a legislative body, like Beaumarchais's 
physician, had " written a tragedy in his youth," which 
was unluckily printed, and was most truly ridiculous. 
During a period of high party spirit, a printer had 
obtained a copy, and was preparing to overwhelm the 
senator with ridicule. A gentleman who was anxious 
for the enactment of a particular bill, obtained this copy, 
and gave it to the author, with no other intimation 
than that of the mischief he had prevented. In what 
degree of bribery this would be ranked, I know not; it 
however at least neutralized a vote. 

One of the most serious discouragements to American 
authors; one that meets them in the very threshold, 
arises from the peculiar circumstances of the book 
trade; some of these- — for instance, the difficulty of trans- 
mitting books in small parcels to great distances, which 
is a serious obstacle, will be gradually obviated, as the 
means of transportation and communication are daily 
improving. But the main evil will be of longer con- 
tinuance; the pubhshing booksellers of the United 
States are the n-itural enemies of our own authors; they, 
whose intervention is a matter of necessity, either 
refuse it altogether, or offer it with reluct; :•■«, and r^^. a 



133 



favour. I do know that they can be blamed for consult- 
ing their own interest, except it be by the non-descripts, 
who do not follow the same rule. It is nevertheless a 
check to the enterprise of literary men, who can now 
hardly get a book printed unless they will sell it them- 
selves; and they cannot be authors, except gratuitously, 
unless they will be booksellers also; those who are best 
qualified for the latter occupation, are not always the 
most competent to the former. The two, however, are 
frequently united. The publishers in the United States 
obtain the productions of the English press for nothing; 
every book printed in that country is a waif to them, 
which they greedily take into possession. The author 
is in this case paid nothing; the bookseller and printer 
profit by his wits. An American author must be paid for 
the oil he has consumed, but the bookseller would not 
gi\e him the value of the trimmings of his lamp: — Why 
should he? He can derive more by the republication of 
foreign literature. The public also connive at this 
proscription of domestic talent, partly from habit, 
partly from interest; since if the author receives any 
thing for his labours, American books must be dearer 
than foreign ones, on which the publisher modestly 
takes for his share, as an importer, only part of what 
would be paid to the author. 

We have indeed no poet like Byron, or novelist like 
Scott and Edgeworth; would to heaven we had ! but we 
might furnish works superior to many that are reprint- 
ed here, and cirt ulated with all the industry of trade. 
Much of what is republished is miserable. Hut 1 may 
cite to you a case which will exemplify the whole of this 
evil. Some years since a bookseller got the earliest 
copy of one of those villanous libels, that have been 



134 

ivntten against this country, in the form of travels ; 
it was a sorry production; it was foreign, however, 
and therefore printed and circulated. It so happened, 
that a clergyman of this state, who had recently travel- 
led over the same ground, published a well written 
tour, which, however, contained nothing libellous; — it 
would not sell. I recollect seeing in a periodical 
publication, a short notice from him of these circum- 
stances, expressed in terms rather of regret than anger, 
and which terminated with this apposite description of 
American patronage ; Mienos fovens, sui negligens. 
This evil will be slowly corrected by public feeling, 
and we may look forward to the time when foreign 
works of merit only will be reprinted, and when a 
domestic production of equal goodness will have the 
preference over a foreign one, from this very circum- 
stance; but this period has not 3?et arrived. 

Literature is discouraged by the present state of 
patronage, which is not commensurate with our means. 
Patronage formerly meant an arrogant gratuity, bestow- 
ed by rank and wealth on the labours of genius, to 
gratify ostentation or secure fame, by having their names 
held up in a dedication. But the condition of authors 
i« ameliorated; a dedication is now a mark of friendship, 
not of subserviency ; the individual largess is changed 
into public contiibution. The number of readers, 
from the wide diffusion of education, now contributes 
the most effective patronage. It is this kind of support 
which is wanting, not from deficiency of means, but 
from want of consideration. There is many a person 
among us whose cellar is worth a thousand dollars, 
but whose library would not bring a hundred. Do not 
think for a moment that I would disparage the value oi 



135 



wine, particularly that true Falernian, that is sent to 
double the Cape of Good Hope. 1 have read too much 
of Anacreon and Horace to be guilty of tliat heresy ; 
on the contrary, 1 hold its limited consumption to be one 
of the ablest supporters of sound learning. But I 
mean, that we have the ability to encourage literature, 
by buying books to the full extent, which is necessary 
to cherish our growing literature. A very few dollars 
a year would purchase a copy of every American work, 
and the money so employed is not thrown away; even 
if the purchaser does not read them, they will common- 
ly sell for what they cost. It is a want of reflection 
on its advantages, that prevents many persons, who 
have a patriotic feeling for every thing that concerns 
the honour of their country, from this slight contribu- 
tion; which paid by many, amounts to an ample aggre- 
gate. Persons who can easily alTord the purchase, 
should feel something like shame at borrowing a book 
which they may obtain at any book-store, and thus reward 
the talents of their countrymen. If the importance 
of this were fully understood, there are many more 
individuals than nowpractise it, who would give directions 
to their bookseller to send them a copy of every Ameri- 
can work of merit, as soon as it appeared. Many 
scientific and learned* men would then be encouraged 
to pursue labours, which are now too often unrewarded. 
There are men who borrow a book, which they can 
obtain at any bookseller's, who would despise a similar 
meanness in any thing else. This topic recalls a remark 
of a distinguished individual, which will fully illustrate 
it. Being engaged one day in conversation with three 
or four gentlemen, they urged him to remain, when he 
proposed leaving them; his answer was, that he could 



136 



not. '* I must go down to Wells's; be has advertised 
some new and valuable books this morning, and I must 
buy them for some of my rich parishioners, who will 
want to borrow them." 

The deference for foreign opinion and the admira- 
tion of foreign literature, was disadvantageous when it 
was carried to excess, since it occasioned, with many, and 
those commonly the most cultivated minds, a distrust of 
their own powers, which rendered them inactive. 
There was a numerous class of mere smatterers, who 
were ready to impute their want of success entirely to 
the dazzling brilliancy of foreign works; people, who 
believed if the nightingale were out of the way, their 
own croaking would be music, and who therefore in- 
voked patriotism to support what good taste condemned. 
Those who had the cause of sound literature really at 
heart, who feared the progress of a false, inflated style, 
and, above all, the deterioration of the language, by 
the introduction of corrupt idioms and unauthorized 
words, treated all this class with great derision. Hence 
a habit of sarcasm and sneering at our own productions 
became general, and tended to create a distrust of them 
all. Politics also, which blend themselves so frequently 
with modern literature, exercised a powerful influence. 
The learning of the country was almost entirely on 
the side of that party which began the adminis- 
tration of the national affiiirs, and which soon after 
became the minority. The disappointment created by 
this political reverse, was too deeply felt. Temporary 
mischiefs were considered radical evils. The loss of 
an election was held to be not the consequence of 
measures, but of the vices of our system. Men with 
upright views especially, were apt to attribute the 



137 



vexations and injustice they met witli hi public life, to 
false principles of government. Foreigners, who looked at 
our institutions with incredulity or jealousy, denounced 
them as impracticable or absurd, because they were 
unsuited to any thing they were acquainted with. The 
vile, atrocious parody of our maxims and establish- 
ments, in the French Revolution, confirmed them in 
their opinions, and produced some influence upon us; 
for if the enormities in France were the natural result 
of our system, then it was indeed monstrous : and we 
were so frequently told that the reflection we saw in 
the Revolutionary mirror was our own image, that much 
uneasiness was excited, though we could not recog- 
nise it. The picture, however, was as much like the 
original, as in one of those optical tricks, where the 
figure of the most beautiful object in creation is convert- 
ed by reflection into a hideous monster. The political 
distrust and anxiety that were engendered, had their 
influence upon literary opinions. Our institutions 
were so new; they were so beneficent, compared with 
those of any other nation, that apprehensions were 
perfectly natural. There was a period even when a 
man who defended their vvisdom and stability, was con- 
sidered rather visionary, and exposed to a certain vague 
suspicion of jacobinism. This has gone by; expe- 
rience has accumulated proofs of their solidity; states- 
men have become convinced that the walls arc not a 
wooden frame, but massive masonr}', and more and more 
pride is felt for the edilice. This feeling, in concerns 
of state, has a reaction upon literature, and we begin 
to feel more confidence and more ardour in its pur- 
suit. These eff'ects will be evident to every person 
who has watched the progress of criticism, and the tone 

12 



138 



of the higher class of literary journals. A subservi- 
ence to foreign opinions is destroyed; they will be 
examined and valued only for their intrinsic merits, and 
we may flatter ourselves, that a progressive self-respect 
will be justified by our productions. 

There are several reasons that hold out to our country 
the fair prospect of literary fame, and a very extensive 
cultivation of learning. The incitements are very 
powerful: from the wide spread of our language, the 
numbers that speak it, on both continents, ai'e already 
great, but from the vast capacity for increase here, how 
many additional millions, in only a few years, will 
communicate their ideas through this medium ! This 
consideration will be a powerful stimulus to talent and 
benevolence; for the good that may be done, or the 
applause that may be acquired by authors, very much 
depend on the language that is used. A writer who 
should publish brilliant or useful thoughts in the Danish 
or Swedish language, or several others, would write for 
a very small portion of mankind; hence many authors 
in Europe have given up the language of their own 
country, to write in French, which is more generally 
known ; but there is a great disadvantage in this, for the 
number of persons who can acquire a foreign language 
in sufficient perfection to express their thoughts in it 
with ease and elegance, must necessarily be very limi- 
ted. The French having been used in diplomatic in- 
tercourse by common consent, became the language of 
polite people in every country of Europe, and at one 
period this gave it a promise of universality. Some 
disposition has been shown on the continent to narrow 
its use, in order to counteract a political influence; this 
may be only temporary ; yet the English must become 



139 



the predominant language. It is probably now spokea 
more than the French. In Asia it must be the exclu- 
sive European language : in Europe, the interests of 
literature and commerce both exert an increasing 
iaduence towards its acquisition as an accomplishment ; 
and in this country, its indefinite power of increase 
will make it hereafter the most general language. The 
author who uses it, knows that those who can sympa- 
thize with him, or follow his views, are innumerable; 
the theatre on which he performs is the largest, 
and the audience the most numerous in the world. 

The love of distinction, the ambition of fame, those 
natural and generous consequences of liberty, must 
have numerous votaries here. That love of future 
renown, which is surely not absurd unless the hope of 
immortality be groundless ; that preference of posthu- 
mous fame to notoriety, which abstracts itself from the 
present, and is anxious to be enrolled in the temple of 
memory; " that intirmity of noble minds," if it prove a 
disorder to the individual, is a benefit to the public* 

Now, as our families cannot be perpetuated; as we 
have no entailed privileges, no hereditary rank; as no 
one is born to titular distinctions; as every man must 
achieve all that he possesses ; literary celebrity will 
become an object of pursuit with many who cannot ob- 
tain it by any less arduous mode. The equality that 

* What booleth it to have been rich alive ? 
What to be great ? what to be gracious ? 
If after death no token doth survive 
Of former being in this mortal house, 
But sleeps in dust, dead and inglorious : 
Like beast whose breath but in his nostrils is, 
And bath not hope of happiness or bliss. 

Spencer's Ruins of Time, 



149 



subsists among us can only be surmounted by superior' 
attainments; and those who do not take the roads of 
wealth or politics in pursuit of these, will follow that of 
literature. 

Perhaps it may be found that literature will derive 
facilities from the unfettered state of opinion among us. 
In some countries education is in the hands of particular 
classes of men, who give it a bias subservient to the 
views of government, or their own order. They arc 
too apt to have a morbid fear of novelty, and a tender 
toleration of existing abuses. Their system is founded 
on proscription, with a strong reluctance to admit any 
change, even if that change be improvement. They 
themselves went through a certain routine, and they 
seem Joath that others should escape from its irksome- 
ness, lest their acquisitions should be undervalued. 
There is a strong disposition to subject every mind t<y 
one method; their plan is the bed of Procrustes, and 
the mind must be stretched or contracted to lit it. In 
the freer countries, there are some exceptions, but they 
are all modern or all private institutions; the public 
establishments still wear the livery of the 15th cen- 
tury. Many minds are thus exercised in trammels, 
until the natural freedom and spring are lost, and they 
ever after move in the required gait, that never over- 
steps the ancient paths. In this country, when we shall 
have a body of instructors with equal ability, and less 
subject to the influence of prejudice, less bigoted to an- 
tique forms-, because they are antique, we may hope 
for greater facilities or fewer obstacles to the develope- 
ment of talent. A boy's case will not be desperate, 
though he cannot make Latin verses; if he can compre- 
hend a problem of Euclid or a moral of history, it will 



141 



be received in commutation for an exercise in prosody; 
and if his mind can soar, the course will be left in 
some degree to his own choice, and not be dragged 
back to earth, to flutter in one, for which he may feel 
nothing except repugnance and inaptitude. 

There is one circumstance which has, in some re- 
spects, a favourable, in others an unfavourable tendency 
for literature, — and which of these aspects prepon- 
derates, is uncertain, though I am inclined to think the 
latter; — this is the wide circulation of newspapers, and 
their extremely miscellaneous character, which furnish 
great variety of reading, and tend to encourage desulto- 
ry habits of it ; of course, they ofter a receptacle of 
speedy publication, open to almost every one's commu- 
nications. This gives an easy o'pportunity to young 
writers to try their pens; but it also wastes the energy 
of many minds in disconnected essays on subjects of 
temporary interest, the fleeting topics of the day. The 
facility of publication, in this ready mode of occupying 
public attention, is very attractive to those who want to 
express their thoughts without the labour of correction. 
Opinions made up under immediate excitement, com- 
monly exhibit great rashness of judgment and a strong 
tincture of prejudice : a loose and careless style is 
adopted, in which violence and exaggeration supply the 
place of correctness and strength; where the efl'ect is 
from " the venom of the shaft, not the vigour of the 
bow." There are many persons who probably would 
not write at all, if they were obliged to write with more 
care and ctTort; but there are some who have in this 
way got rid of their thoughts as they occurred, without 
the trouble of maturing them, and have frittered away 
12* 



142 



powers of intellect that might have produced works of 
permanent utility. 

We derive great satisfaction for the present, and 
entertain strong hopes for the future, from the advances 
we have made within a few years; while, from the steps 
that have been taken, we may presume upon a develope- 
ment, a few years hence, that will exhibit a very high 
ratio of increase. The standard of education has been 
enlarging, instructors are more able, and students more 
accomplished. This is not only shown in the number 
and character of the books we have published, but is 
very obvious and striking in most of our journals and 
periodical works. The transactions of our learned so- 
cieties exhibit very gratifying proofs of this progressive 
amelioration. The volumes of the Historical Society, 
though they might be supposed to have exhausted the 
most interesting papers, still continue to publish, an- 
nually, a mass of documents, invaluable to the Americaa 
historian. The Transactions of the American Academy 
have been constantly improving, and will now compare 
with those of almost any learned Society in Europe. 
None of these labours are paid for ; — every thing of 
this kind is gratuitous, and these productions are the 
voluntary efforts of individuals, in the moments of lei- 
sure from active business, either in public or private 
life. Indeed, it may be considered as one of the ad- 
vantages of modern literature, that the race of mere au- 
thors is almost extinct. The character of literary men 
stands higher. It is not considered in Europe, as it 
formerly was, degrading to a man of noble rank or in. 
high employ, to write a book;— -it now adds to his con- 
sideration. Men of learning and science have been diS' 
covered to be capable of various kinds of public era-,. 



143 



ployment, and talents now are not thought incompatible 
with performing an active part, either in public or pri- 
vate concerns. There is less encouragement in this, 
than in any other country, lor a man to confine himself 
to authorship. This I think a great advantage; it pre- 
vents genius from degrading itself by unworthy subser- 
viency, and it gives servants to the public of greater ca- 
pacity. It brings men of learning and men of the world 
more into contact; it blends the business of life and its 
instruction more intimately; it destroys pedantry, and 
enriches literature. 



LETTER VI. 

Fine Arts. 

My DEAR Sir, 

We agreed so fully in the opinion, that our country 
was destined to acquire a glorious reputation from the 
successful cultivation of the fine arts, that I very cheer- 
fully answer your inquiries as to our prospects in this 
respect, and what has been done here for encourage- 
ment. On this subject there is much prejudice, and it 
is so often considered under very narrow and false views 
of its importance, that 1 shall, at the risk of repeating 
many ideas which may be already familiar to you, pre- 
sume so far on your patience, as to give an outline of the 
reasons which should influence us, rationally and indi- 
vidually, to promote the growlii of the fine arts in our 
country. I think my observations will be capable of 
»eneral application, but I request you to bear in mind. 



144 



that 1 am writing under the impulse of local impressions, 
and my allusions will be principally to facts existing in 
this vicinity. 

It is impossible to avoid yery confident expectations 
of future glory from the arts, when we consider the nu- 
merous indications that we have given of aptitude for their 
cultivation. Surely, the eminent artists produced in this 
country, during the last generation, did not sprinii from 
mere accident ; but we shall continue to produce others 
in constant succession. If we claim as our countrymen 
those who pursued their profession under every disad- 
vantage, from the strong instinct of talent alone, and 
who were obliged to expatriate themselves at periods 
when revolution and poverty prevented their employ- 
ment at home, we may calculate on having an increased 
number, wherj we are beginning to get models that will 
serve to awaken and guide the eflorts of genius; when 
wealth has given us the ample means of patronage, — 
when the circle of taste is widening every day, and when 
. the feeling of national policy is beginning to call on the 
arts to promote it. 

On this, as in some other cases in this country; in al- 
most every thing but patriotism and virtue, we are 
obliged, after admitting present deficiencies, and point- 
ing out the remedy, to console ourselves, by looking for- 
ward. The difference between this and some older 
countries, is the difl'erence between anticipation and re- 
trospect; ours are the pleasures of hope, theirs the 
pleasures of memory. We do not expect a harvest 
without having planted the seed, and proved the soil to 
be fruitful. Accidents may retard the growth, disastrous 
seasons may blight the expected fruit; but these will be 
transient disappointments. A people, enjoying the 



145 



highest degree of liberty, and a power of expansion 
nearly unlimited; with facilities for all kinds of acqui- 
sition, wealth, learning, skill, and security for their en- 
joyment, must advance. Sanguine as some of our cal- 
culations have been, they have more often fallen short 
of, than exceeded the reality. The power of produc- 
tion in our country has nothing to fetter it, and every 
thing to maintain its excitement. 

As New-York and Philadelphia had already com- 
menced institutions for the public patronage of the arts, 
a few gentlemen undertook to furnish a similar protec- 
tion in Boston, in which design they made some pro- 
gress, and obtained a subscription of four or five thou- 
sand dollars; but, I believe, suspended its execution, to 
combine it with a plan for erecting a building for the 
Atheneum that is in contemplation. An exhibition 
room, where pictures, models in architecture and sculp- 
ture, engravings, &c. can be shown to advantage, is one 
of the most useful aids that can be given. If an artist 
paints a very krge historical picture, that will excite 
general interest, it will often reward him to exhibit it by 
itself; but smaller pictures, and other performances, 
require a common exhibition room, which will draw 
the attention of the public, where taste may be formed 
by comparing various styles together, and where the 
artist himself receives the most useful hints, by observ- 
ing different vianners, and learning to correct his own 
defects, by examining both the beauties and defects of 
others. 

When the subject was agitated of commencing an in- 
stitution to promote the arts, which should grow with 
their growth, and be extended hereafter, if found to be 
expedient, the proposition elicited a good deal of oh- 



146 



vious wisdom. Very sensible observations were made 
by that numerous class, whose remarks are equally 
valuable the last day of the week as the first, and who 
are always ready, upon a new proposal, because they 
are always on one side. Others, in a spirit of true mag- 
nanimity, foi^bore to express any opinion against a de- 
sign of such inherent absurdity, that it must inevitably 
sink with its own weight. Others were unwilling to 
consider a subject at all, on which they had never re- 
flected, and which they looked upon with indifference. 
Even many of those who were favourably disposed to- 
wards it, rather gave their assent in that feeling of pub- 
lic spirit which induces them to wish well to every 
thing proposed for the public advantage, than to any 
particular conviction of the utility of this undertaking. 
You will then allow me to discuss some of the points of 
view which the question of encouraging the arts pre- 
sents, and a cursory notice of some of the objections 
that have been made to them. 

To commence with objections ; — the most serious one 
was that made by the Abbe Gregoire to Mr. Barlow, 
in his letter on the subject of one of the plates in the 
Columbiad; an objection which has been sometimes 
urged by others, and which, if it were just, ought to be 
fatal, — that the arts exercised a corrupting influence on 
society. Now, that society has sometimes exercised a 
corrupting influence on the arts, is unfortunately true ; 
but yet no one will probably contend that society ought 
to be destroyed. There have been very immoral books 
published, but no one would consent to renounce the 
use of printing. If Julio Romano prostituted his pen- 
cil to illustrate the infamous works of Aretin, it is almost 
a solitary example; and we should recollect that his 






147 



master, the divine Raphael, devoted his genius to the 
service of religion and philosophy. If too many artists 
of the Italian school delineated the voluptuous fables of 
antiquity, it was because the profligacy of their patrons 
left them no alternative. The tendency of all the higher 
branches of the art is unquestionably to elevate the 
mind; and in this country, or in England, no artist of any 
note can be reproached with licentious works. The 
arts have, perhaps, no conservative quality that can pre- 
serve them pure in the midst of profligacy and debase- 
ment ; but they will certainly be found on the side of all 
that is grand and sublime in human character, so long as 
the disposition of their country and the spirit of the times 
will uphold them in that cause. 

It was said to be premature to make a foundation for 
the arts before they existed among us ; — we shall be 
very glad to have them hereafter, when people have ac- 
quired a taste for them; — they will come in due season. 
It was not thought premature by our ancestors to found 
a college for teaching Latin and Greek, before they 
would raise Indian corn enough to feed themselves 
through the year ; and yet, to the barren rocks from 
whence they caused the living sources of learning to 
flow, hundreds have resorted, from distant and more 
fertile regions, to drink of the stream, and pay homage 
to their foresight ; and from these very fountains the 
whole country has been refreshed and invigorated. Yet 
with what a smile of insolent pity would modern saga- 
city have regarded a scheme for teaching Greek and 
Latin, when they were almost destitute of food and 
clothing '. It could not be premature, when our neigh- 
bours were commencing similar 'attempts, respecting 
which, we must choose between being the rivals ortri- 



148 



butaries. Besides, it was not a Vatican or a Louvre that 
was proposed; — it was not the intention to import deli- 
cate exotics to be nourished by artificial heat;^ no, — it 
was only to shelter and protect what our own soil had 
produced, — what had grown up within our borders, 
from the native riches of the clime, and to prepare, in 
the most gradual manner, the means of future develope- 
ment. 

It was said we had not wealth enough; for this ob- 
jection there are at least two answers. In the first 
place, we have more wealth than many countries pos- 
sessed, when they carried the arts to the highest state of 
splendour ; and more money has been expended on 
foreign productions, altogether worthless — tawdry co- 
loured prints from worn-out plates, for example, than 
would have furnished a sufficient temporary support to 
our own productions. We have a taste for splendid 
furniture in our houses, and certainly prove, by their 
appearance, that we have the means of gratifying it. 
No one will assert that we have so little taste or senti- 
ment, as to be insensible to the pleasure of looking at 
some interesting native landsc'ape, some delineation of a 
memorable event in our history, some likeness of a 
departed patriot, or a public benefactor. If these could 
be obtained, there are few even who would not, if it 
were necessary, forego the purchase of some gilded 
bawble to procure them; and if there are any doubts ? 
whether the influence of taste would go so far, there 
can be none about the power of fashion, or that it 
would be exerted in this direction. 

It is not strange, perhaps, and ought not to excite 
vexation, that mistaken notions should prevail upon a 
question, which circumstances have not given occasion 



149 



to most persons to reflect upon sufficiently. Yet 
nothing can be more absurd than some of the observa- 
tions that have been thrown out. When on a recent 
occasion, it was proposed to erect certain monuments, 
or procure the busts and portraits of some eminent pa- 
triots; it was dechired thcit we did not want pictures or 
statues, that we had no taste for the fine arts, and 
were too poor to encourage them. Now, the only fine 
art that had much to do with this question, was grati- 
tude. When it was proposed to commemorate some 
national triumph, or to perpetuate the likeness of some 
great patriot, it might have been inferred, from the 
objections, that it was intended to have a statue of an 
Apollo, or a painting of the siege of Troy, rather than 
the Death of Warren, and the Battle of Bunker's Hill. 
If indeed the object was merely to found a school for 
the production of that ideal beauty, on those fine de- 
lineations of the allegorical and picturesque, which can 
afford such delight to the connoisseur, it might be left 
to him to provide for his own gratification. Ignorance 
only can deny, that there must be something of high 
value and attraction in those fragile or diminutive speci- 
mens of the genius of Greece, which have survived the 
existence of the people that produced them, and outlived 
powerful emperors. These productions, that have ex- 
cited the envy and admiration of all cultivated nations, 
cannot be destitute of merit; yet if the subject were 
confined to them, however innocent or refined the pur- 
suit of such studies and tastes might be, it should be 
considered a matter of individual luxury, not of public 
concern; a subject to be left to the management of the 
dilletanti, not demanding the interference of the state, — 
13 



150 



but is it so ? is this the only point of view in which it ih 
to be regarded, and are pohcy and patriotism wholly 
uninterested in the event? 

I would not have you think me insensible to the de- 
light which the sight of exquisite performances in paint- 
ing, sculpture, architecture, or music can afford, — far 
from it, — without any pretensions to connoisseurship in 
either of these branches, I would not willingly renounce 
the pure and elevated pleasure which they have all 
inspired, even in one so ignorant of those arts as myself; 
but it is not for the sake of this pleasure, though its 
tendency is to raise the mind above gratifications of 
a coarser nature, that the encouragement of the arts 
should be promoted ; nor should this pleasure give the 
impulse for their establishment in this country. The 
grounds on which they should be protected and foster- 
ed, belong to the patriot and statesman, and not to the 
virtuoso. 

If we had gone on, as we were proceeding, till with- 
in a recent period, we should have formed in the end a 
collection of very intelligent and skilful planters, farm- 
ers, mechanics, and traders ; but we should have gradu- 
ally lost what we possessed of national character and 
patriotic feeling; we should have had no rallying 
points for public sentiments, no topics for general enthu- 
siam, no sanctuary where patriotism could have taken 
refuge from the violence of party; we should have been 
degraded into tributaries to foreign nations, in every 
thing that regarded sentiment, and been destitute of all 
the associations that ennoble the love of country. Even 
our parties formerly seemed to renounce every thing 
indigenous in their contests, and arrayed themselves 
in foreign liveries, and echoed the vaunting of other 



151 



nations, until they had well nigh forgotten they had 
one of their own. If a mob contended at a theatre for 
some popular air, it was, GoJ Save the King, or Ca ha; 
if a festival was held, the songs commemorated the 
triumphs of foreigners over each other, and sometimes, 
by implication, over ourselves. Our houses were deco- 
rated with F^rench victories by land, and English ones 
by sea. The print shops of Europe supplied us with 
representations of their warlike triumphs, their benefi- 
cent actions, their illustrious men. All that excited 
admiration, all the sympathies of a public nature, that 
blended themselves with the holiday emotions of the 
human heart, of a public nature, were in this service of 
strangers. Such a state of things could not last, and if 
it had endured much longer, our national existence 
would have lingered on without glory and without secu- 
rity. Events gradually weakened this humiliating state 
of things, and the late war consummated its ruin. We 
have now popular ballads, and festal songs of our own; 
we too can show our battles b}' land and by sea, and our 
triumphs on both; we too have begun to recollect that 
we had national events to commemorate, and great men 
to honour. A reviving animating impulse has been 
given to public sentiment; the glory of our Revolution, 
and the services of its illustrious men, have begun to 
occupy the attention of the public. The national and 
.state governments are awakening to a sense of their 
true interests in this respect; the actions and the por- 
traits of our own citizens will become the ornaments of 
our cities and dwellings ; and national gratitude is at 
length heartily engaged in securing our national fame* 
To further perpetuate these purposes, constituted the 



152 



invaluable utility of the arts, and furnishes their noblest 
Tocation. 

If all history be not false, all knowledge of the 
human heart vain; the erection of public monuments, 
the keeping alive the remembrance of great services, by 
the aid of arts, is the reward most ardently desired by 
genius and heroic virtue. The common and instant 
favours of society are the prevailing motives for a great 
number of the most useful and indispensable services, 
and sufficiently gratify many honourable and merito- 
rious men; but such are not minds of the first order. 
The famcE sacra fames is the instinct of elevated souls, 
and the prompter of the noblest class of actions. Nor is 
it enough that such actions should only be recorded in 
history; they must be represented in visible memorials in 
our temples and public edifices; there they are recognis- 
ed by every citizen, and not reserved for the observation 
of the student; there they are brought often and palpa 
bly to view, and not kept out of sight in neglected annals. 
If the arts were to have been finally proscribed in this 
country, the deleterious effects would have gone deeper 
than would be at first imagined. We should have 
depreciated our own character, by neglecting all posthu- 
mous reputation. All mankind would have been admit- 
ted to our Temple of Fame, except an American: it 
would have been a misfortune for a great man to have 
been born here; he could have obtained no entrance 
through its gates; he would have been like the people 
of France on the week days, excluded from their 
museums, which, with great courtesy, are shown to 
strangers; he would have felt like a Frenchman, whom 
1 once heard exclaim with vexation, on observing a small 
party entering a reserved part of the garden of plants 



153 



at Paris, to which he was refused admittance, when he 
was told it was because we were foreigners, and he was 
a Frenchman, — " Ah ! comme cest malheureux d''etr.e 
Fran^ais." 

To these high purposes the arts have been gradually 
directed, by that progress of improvement which has 
operated such great ameliorations of the state of society 
within the last fifty years. They have been withdrawn 
from frivolous employments to the most useful purposes. 
The ancients engaged the arts in the service of reli- 
gion and patriotism. In their state of ignorance, with 
respect to the former, the arts were a powerful ally; 
and the gods they produced for the adoration of Pagans, 
still excite the admiration of more enlightened worship- 
pers. Their patriotism was also nourished by them, 
and statues were erected to all those who had served 
the state. When the arts revived in modern times, they 
were enlisted, particularly painting and architecture, in 
the service of religion. They afterwards fell off from 
this direction, and became subservient, in a great de- 
gree, to mere fancy and luxury. They have expe- 
rienced another revolution, and are now returning to 
their legitimate uses. In France, the government has 
employed painters and sculptors in representing the ac- 
tions and the individuals that will live in history. In 
England, the same course has been followed, and per- 
haps to greater extent. Mr. West has been a great 
leader in this course; — his Death of Wolfe, Battle of 
La Hogue, Death of Nelson, and many other historical 
events, are well known. Mr. Copley's Death of Lord 
Chatham, Victory of Admiral Duncan, Death of Major 
Pierson, k.c. &.c. ; Mr. Trumbull's Sortie of Gibraltar, 
&:c. are instances, among many others; and I have 

Is* 



151 



uamed these, because here were three of our country- 
men engaged at one time in the service of a foreign state. 
Sculpture, in England, has been almost exclusively em- 
ployed in the service of the nation. The numerous 
monuments ordered by Parliament in Westminster Ab- 
bey, and St. Paul's, have employed all their eminent 
artists; and the busts of distinguished individuals, in ad- 
dition, are nearly all the works they have produced. 
How much more rational and honourable is such occu- 
pation, both for the artist and the public, than the pro- 
duction of ideal figures, only to exemplify skill in the 
conception of imaginary beauty. Figures of this de- 
scription, gods and goddesses, in modern times, border 
upon affectation and ridicule, since they create few of 
the associations that made them interesting to the an- 
cients ; and as there are some half dozen statues among 
those which they have left, that are models of the va- 
rious kinds of ideal beauty not to be surpassed, it would 
seem better to have copies made of these, and let our 
artists devote themselves to monuments, which will con- 
nect their names with the history of their own times 
and country. 

There is one of the arts that is so indispensable in 
almost all climates of the world, that every people, 
above the condition of troglodytes, are obliged to recur 
to it. Shelter, in many countries, is as necessary as 
food, yet how imperfect with us is the art that prepares 
it. How few buildings in this country, either public or 
private, are constructed with a due regard to the prin- 
ciples of beauty, or a wise distribution as to con- 
venience for the occupants. How often are they left to 
mere mechanics, who erect them with the aid of the 
•'builder's assistant," with about the same degree of 



155 



success that would be obtained in a correspondence 
guided by the " Complete Letter Writer." Surely, 
next to agriculture, architecture should receive the fos- 
tering care of the state, when so much of the economy, 
the appearance, and the comfort of a country, depend 
on its being well understood, and thoroughly adapted to 
all the wide variety of purposes to which it is sub- 
servient. 

A foundation for a school of architecture is now pe- 
culiarly necessary. Our buildings, public and private, 
are every year becoming more important and expensive. 
Our race of wooden buildings are annually decaying, 
and more permanent ones erecting in their stead. Bad 
and inconvenient plans and designs, violating the princi- 
ples of the art, are now more than ever to be deplored; 
because, when of wood, they might have decayed, or 
been burnt up; but now, all blunders will last for centu- 
ries. Almost every year there are some churches 
building; — what a pity that we could not get a style of 
building better suited to the purpose of religious wor- 
ship, than those awkward wooden lanterns, that are al- 
most every where exhibited. The period has now gone 
by, when the spirit of religious dissent, which proscrib- 
ed the Lord's Prayer, and the reading of the Bible, de- 
termined also to dispense with every thing like dignity 
and solemnity in churches, as abominations, that would 
lead to dangerous errors. Probably, in many parishes, 
they might now be brought to give up having a window 
to each pew, out of which they could all stare at any 
passing object, whilst the minister was performing their 
duty of devotion ; and they might be induced to have 
their meeting-house so constructed, that the congrega- 
tion should be separated from all exterior objects, and 



156 



being freed from the glare of sunshine and cross hghts, 
find, in the solemnity of more sober tones and perfect 
seclusion, appropriate situation for the exercises of de- 
votion. 

It was remarked by a distinguished individual, many 
years since, " that the genius of architecture seemed to 
have shed his malediction oyer our country." Some 
buildings have been erected within a later period, which 
prove that the spell may be broken. Our progress has 
been from wood to brick, from brick to marble and gra- 
nite. In Baltimore and New-York, the churches are 
the handsomest buildings, — in Philadelphia, the banks. 
There is one building for this purpose in the latter city, 
which you well know is admitted to be the most beauti- 
ful edifice in this country, and there are two or three 
others that are worthy of observation ; but the churches 
are remarkably plain and mean. This led to the remark 
by the lady of a foreign minister, " that it was easy to 
" perceive what deity the Philadelphians worshipped, 
" by the temples they erected to him ; their temples of 
*• mammon were the most splendid in the United States, 
" their churches the meanest." It may weaken the pun- 
gency of this sarcasm to observe, that this state of their 
churches was owing to the strong predominance of Qua- 
kerism, one of whose whims it is to proscribe every 
thing elegant, variegated, or majestic; and this principle, 
which is carried to a singular degree of perfection in 
their meeting-houses, had its influence over other sects, 
especially when their relative numbers were very dif- 
ferent from what they are at present. We can boast of 
nothing equal to the builditigs alluded to, but we have 
made one step in the progress of improvement; — we 
are getting rid of our wooden edition of edifices, and 



157 



constructing them of brick or stone. The latter, par- 
ticularly, is getting more and more into use, and our fu- 
ture buildings will present at least one requisite, the 
appearance of solidity, in which they have hitherto been 
lamentably deficient. 

It is not only very desirable that we should introduce 
a correct style of architecture, since we have begun to 
make use of more durable materials, but it is absolutely 
necessary, because the more refractory character of our 
materials will drive us into more simplicity. When soft 
pine wood was the only article used in the construction of 
a house, except the rough stones for the cellar walls, 
and the bricks in the chimney, it was easy to mould it 
into any form; and this has often led to a very prepos- 
terous and fantastic use of ornament. Columns, pilas- 
ters, balustrades, porticos, turrets, and all the minor 
kinds of architectural ornaments, have been sometimes 
most absurdly lavished; — a false taste has been formed 
in consequence. We tried our hand at the most com- 
plicated variations, before we were able to judge of the 
simplest accords. But it is harmony and simplicity, 
in architecture as in music, that give pleasure, not 
the combination of difficulties and exuberance of 
ornaments. The two styles which are best suited to 
our circumstances, are the Gothic for churches, and 
the Doric for other buildings. The first is susceptible 
of any degree of ornament, or will admit of the 
greatest plainness; the other, in its majestic simple 
harmony, has produced the most striking and the most 
durable edifices in the world. 

Trinity church, in the Gothic style, at New Haven, is 
the handsomest church in this part of the Union ; there 
are in Boston, Providence, and in some other towns, 



158 



places of public worship that are not destitute of merit, 
but it is united with great defects. It would be an 
invidious task to point out all these, but there are two 
cases when bad taste has operated to destroy a good 
effect, where it might have been produced, that may be 
mentioned as examples. A church was built a few 
years since in Boston, for which the original design was 
very handsome. It was intended to be a parallelogram, 
with a Doric portico; the walls were plain, with large 
windows, making only one story, and built of a beautiful 
white granite. Thus far the original design; but 
the plans of an architect have to pass through the 
hands of a committee. The first thing that was done, 
was to add a steeple ; a very pretty one; and this 
through a sort of monster in the architecture, is justi- 
fiable, from the agreeable effect it produces at a dis- 
tance : no church indeed ought to be built without one; 
a village spire is always picturesque, and awakens 
pleasing emotions, and the effect of steeples and domes, 
in giving an air of animation and grandeur to a town, 
may be judged of negatively, by seeing what a dull, 
lifeless, unmeaning aspect Philadelphia presents to the 
observer without, though it is such a handsome city 
within. The next alteration was to change the form 
to an octagon, a figure which is appropriate enough 
for a crystal, but is an absurdity in architecture. The 
portico was Doric, but these columns, though made 
of wood, were with an Ionic proportion ! thus muti- 
lating and destroying its whole beauty. To remedy 
this glaring fault, an add^ition, which does not belong to 
the order, was put on at the bottom, to diminish their 
dyspeptic appearance, that only increased the disorder. 
If it had been proposed to paint one red, one green. 



159 



one blue, one yellow, it would have been scoffed at as 
absurd; and yet it would have been a less grievous 
blunder than has been committed now; for it is not 
uncommon in Italy to see columns of different coloured 
marbles in the same edifice where the proportions are 
all alike. Fortunately these deformed columns are 
of wood, and must soon grow shabby. They will then 
perhaps be replaced by columns of the Nova Scotia 
freestone, which is easily worked, and is now getting 
into use here, for every thin«; where the chisel is 
required. 

Circumstances like these ou<;ht to be made known, 
to save the honour of the architect. A similar instance 
may be mentioned in the State House in Boston. The 
committee were alarmed at the idea of expense, and 
therefore ordered ten feet of solid wall to be left out 
of each wing in the length, and a proportionate quantity 
in the width: this of course gave it a lantern-like ap- 
pearance, and made the dome so out of proportion, as 
to crush the edifice. It is hardly worth while lo criti- 
cise a building of brick, with wooden ornaments; but 
from its commanding situation, and general outline, it 
produces at a distance a much better effect than many 
more costly and handsome buildings. One other in- 
stance may be mentioned, where a fine effect is des- 
troyed still more perversely, because the pretence of 
saving is extremely trifling. A very excellent and 
capacious establishment for an insane hospital, has been 
recently made in the vicinity of Boston. The centre 
of this hospital was formerly a large country-house, 
standing in a very conspicuous position ; the estate 
was purchased, and two additional buildings, as wings, 
advancing in front, on diverging lines, are connected 



169 



by galleries with the centre building, and might hare 
been made to form a noble and imposing whole. But 
this has been marred. The centre, which is of brick 
and stone, with the connecting corridors, are painted a 
light _yellovv; the wings are left with their original colour 
of ihe red brick: there is something so delicious in the 
colour of dingy red bricks, especially in the country, 
that no one could have the heart to paint them over. 
The consequence is, that the whole is disjointed, and 
from the points where they would be seen to the 
greatest advantage, may be taken for great warehouses or 
manufactories, and seem to have no connexion with the 
centre buildings. Now, if this arrangement had 
been made by any of the unfortunate tenants, it 
would have been put down to a broken disordered in- 
tellect, but it being by those who have the direction 
of them, nothing is said. There is a great deal of injus- 
tice in this world. 

It is a cruel thing to architects to have their plans 
mutilated, without remorse or consideration of them, 
in a scientific point of view. In a free country every 
thing of this kind is done by committees, composed 
commonly of men who may be invaluable from their 
active habits of business or benevolence, but who are 
too apt to consider a plan and appearance in a subor- 
dinate point of view, from a misapprehension of their 
real importance. These mistakes are not confined 
to our country; England has many awkward edifices 
to show. There is one very remarkable one, of which 
you may have heard the history. I allude to the Man- 
sion House of the city of London: when this was going 
to be built, the Earl of Burlington, who had great taste 
in architecture, sent a very classic design for the 



161 



etlitice; but it was I'rom PallaJio. The wortliy Cominou 
Council knew nothing and careil nothing about Palhidio; 
they adopted a phm of one of their own citizens, "a 
man whom they knew," a ship-carpenter; and the build- 
ing he produced for them has much more nearly the 
appearance of the stern of a three decker, than any 
other edifice on the surface of the land. I would not 
have architects trusted implicitly; they are often led 
into plans of a useless and dangerous extent; but the 
harmony of a design ought not to be lightly destroyed. 
Very glaring defects in public buildings are a standing 
reproach to a community, and they are mischievous in 
accustoming the eye to deformity. Taste ought not to 
be too much disregarded; it is often the synonym of judg- 
ment, and if consulted in the external appearance, it 
will, on the mere principle of congruity, regulate what 
is within; and the improvements resulting will not be 
superficial, but go to the right distribution of every 
thing that is solid and essential in the art. 

There is another art which is the handmaid of all the 
others, whose productions are more easily understood 
than either of the rest; an art which is daily increasing 
both for use and ornament, and enables us to partici- 
pate in some degree in the pleasure of beholding nu- 
merous objects of sculpture and architecture, as well 
as painting, which else would be beyond our reach ; 
you know, without my naming it, that I mean the art of 
engraving. By the aid of this, we obtain a correct 
idea of all the noblest efforts of sculpture and archi- 
tecture, and a still more complete repiesentatioii of 
all celebrated paintings. Engraving is, to all the other 
arts, what printing is to literature. It multiplies the 
f'opies of what is deserving of admiration, and brings 

14 



162 



them within the walls of every house. The patnoi 
and the philanthropist is thus every Avhere known; 
this art puts it in our power, when paintings are beyond 
our means, to decorate our rooms with the portraits of 
those we love and honour, though they may have lived 
in other times or in other regions. 

There is another department in which this art is of 
great importance, and where the use of it is constantly 
increasing ; this is in education and almost all kinds of 
instruction. A representation of objects, instead of a 
description, is a prodigious facility to children in ac- 
quiring knowledge. This method has been much ex- 
tended of late years, and is capable of yet wider appli- 
cation; it would be difficult to estimate all the advan- 
tages that has resulted from it in the early stages of edu- 
cation. The extension of the science, and the multipli- 
cation of machinery, make its aid of some consequence 
to almost every individual; there is no man who has 
not experienced the difficulty of comprehending the ap- 
pearance of any object of natural history, or any machine 
for the purpose of agriculture or manufactures,from mere 
description, but who obtains a perfect idea of it at once 
from an engraving. There are few books to which 
this art cannot add either a most agreeable embellish- 
ment, or indispensable explanation. 

It would be *Qo tedious to go into further exempli- 
fications of the positive utility of the Fine Arts; but it 
is in this point of view chiefly that I should regard the 
question of introducing and fostering them. From 
their most elevated purposes, their influence descends, 
by nice gradations, to almost every branch of human 
industry; it is felt in many kinds of manufactures, and 
materially promotes the beauty and excellence of most 



163 



productions of the mechanic arts. Every country must 
possess them, or become tributary for their results to 
others. The sections of the United States that take 
the lead in their encouragement, will have very great 
advantages over their neighbours, not only in in- 
tellectual refinement, but in the products of their 
industry. 



LETTER VII. 

On the relative Rank of Americans. 

My DEAR Sir, 

From some expressions in your last letter, I infer 
that your friend the Baronet has made something like a 
complaint against me, on which I wish to offer you some 
explanation. I showed him very cheerfully all the 
civilities that were in my power, on your introduction; 
and because he was a stranger, he could not help being 
a dull man, and I was willing to overlook it. On one or 
two occasions, however, he assumed certain airs in 
society, which induced me to treat him a little cavalierly. 
You will believe that I am incapable of intentionally 
hurting the feelings of any man, without provocation, 
of whatever condition he may be. On this occasion it 
was too trifling to cause much sensation; and I thought 
his perceptions rather too obtuse to have felt the slight 
shade of difference in my conduct. The circumstance 
gives me a good theme for some remarks on relative 
rank, which 1 have long intended to offer you. 

The comparative rank between Americans and the 
subjects of European monarchies, has never been 



164 



settledj there is no common umpire whom botii wili 
acknowledge. The legends of heraldry are not ac- 
credited by us; we cannot be marshalled by the Garter 
King at Arms, or the Grande Maitre des Ceremonies; 
there is no international code that can adjust the respec- 
tive pretensions. We must maintain ours, by pre- 
serving with vigilance the freedom, civil, political, and 
religious, which we enjoy at home, and by securing 
exterior consideration, from a course of integrity, firm- 
ness and independence towards foreign nations. In the 
mean time they are apt to fall into the mistake of 
levelling us down to similar denominations among them- 
selves. They see no titular rank among us; they see 
nothing but planters, merchants, and professional men; 
no noble idlers ; and they place us in the condition of 
.such characters in the society to whom they assign a 
subordinate rank. But this will not do; men who have 
higher privileges in one country cannot be classed with 
those who hold lower ones in another. 

Our situation and that of England approach the near- 
est; the identity of language, the similarity of laws and 
habits, make the examination of our relative circum- 
stances more easy, and 1 shall therefore have a more 
particular reference to them than to other nations. The 
English nation has long been the envy of its neighbours, 
for its free institutions ; and the more enlightened and 
generous minds on the continent, have made, and are 
still making, great efforts to obtain the same advantages. 
The English were not insensible to their good fortune; 
it has always furnished a theme of exultation. The 
perfect security of civil rights, and high degree of 
political liberty they enjoyed, were apt to make them 
arrogant, presuming, and contemptuous towards thei? 



165 

neighbours, who were subjected to gross inequality ot 
persotiril rights, and a state of servitude, more or less mi- 
tigated, only by the spirit and intelligence of the nation. 
English insolence became proverbial with those who 
were often exposed to its observation. This is not a very 
amiable feature, but it is a natural one ; the feeling of 
freedom elevates those who possess it, and they will be 
prone to treat with contempt those who are without it. 
The freest nation must be the proudest, and they will 
often irritate, by an exhibition of this pride, those who 
are their inferiors in this respect. The English are the 
freest people in Europe ; but their government is a 
monarchy founded on a gradation of rights and privi- 
leges; the body of the nation is on a near equality of 
condition, but there are a few with hereditary advan- 
tages, which place them infinitely above their fellow 
subjects. In this country no class is proscribed for 
the sake of the rest; every man is born with the same 
alienable rights; no one can claim precedence of another 
from birth, and no man can be raised except by his merits, 
talents, or services, above his fellow citizens, but by 
their consent and during their pleasure. We in fact 
live under the highest an<l most perfectly organized 
state of freedom that ever was known; the condition of 
man is higher than has ever been assumed by any nation, 
ancient or modern, and the consequences are inevitable. 
We are born under a perfect equality, so far as hu- 
man enactments can produce it, and every man has a 
chance of elevating himself, if he has the capacity and 
inclination to do so. It results, that there is a freer 
bearing:, a more unshackled gait in people of ail classes, 
than is seen in other countries. A merchant, a farmer, 
14* 



166 



a professional man, feels no inferiority of rank, and his 
personal position is therefore higher. Even in the la- 
bouring classes there is a distinction that may be per- 
ceived. In England, the security of civil rights main- 
tains great independence of character in the people,— a 
sort of defiance, even growing out of this conviction of 
personal security, and a sullen consciousness of political 
inferiority, may be more often witnessed than in this coun- 
try, where the perfect conviction of political equalit}', and 
the absence of all titular pre-eminence gives a cast of 
independence to the manners, more careless and good- 
natured, as it never thinks of subserviency. You will 
understand me to be speaking generally ; I know that 
we have narrow-minded fiirmers and planters, paltry 
attorneys, and sordid traders; — but, take the same 
classes of men in the same circumstances, — suppose 
them to possess the same degree of good sense, educa- 
tion and liberality, — the consciousness of equality will 
make the American superior, or prouder in his feelings, 
than the Englishman, who acknowledges, and if he at- 
tempts to shake it off, is made to feel, that he holds a 
subordinate station in society. 

An Englishman might say — you seem to hold very ex- 
travagant pretensions ; you acknowledge no gradations. 
How far do you carry them ? I give you up our city 
knights, but surely, you, a plain citizen of a republic, 
will give precedence to our baronets ? Certainly not; 
they are the lowest order of your nobility. You would, 
then, place yourself on a footing with a baron, or a vis- 
count ? Those are only gradations in your privileged 
orders; I acknowledge none. Well, then, you rank 
yourself nith the premier peer of England ? You won- 



167 



iler, — but this comes nearer to the case ; I assent to no 
inherent, abstract inferiority; I am equal to any man in 
ray own country; I must, therefore, degrade and for- 
swear that country, or feel myself equal, in natural 
rank, to any man in your's ; and if you have established 
a scale of privileges, to which, from policy, or necessi- 
ty, you are willing to submit, it is not binding on me; — 
I place myself at the top of the scale, and not at the bot- 
tom. The shape of the button of your mandarins, or 
the colour of his dress, is a matter of indifference; — no 
man possesses higher privileges than myself in my own 
country. I therefore place myself with those who have 
the highest in your's. This must be the feeling of every 
high-spirited, well educated American. Coarse minds 
will be apt to show it oflensively; well-bred men will be 
content with feeling it. They will not go abroad to be 
either missionaries or bullies; nor will they dispute with 
the customs or feelings of other nations. They may 
rank them as they see fit, but the reservation in their 
own breasts will preserve their just situation. There 
is such a strong infusion of republicanism in the English 
laws and manners, that their difl'erence of privileges is 
less obnoxious to the feelings than in most other coun- 
tries. A private gentleman there may preserve his in- 
dependence in retirement, and rarely come in collision 
with any galling claims of precedence. But, if he goes 
to court, or into public life, he must submit to the pre- 
tensions of others, and take rank beneath tliem. 

The English nobility was formerly so restricted, that 
the privileges of hereditary rank were seldom encoun- 
tered. During the present reign, the titled class hae 
been prodigiously increased, so that what Madame de 
"^tacl calls les noms historiques, are now swallowed up 



168 



in the crowd. There were formerly just nobles enough 
to form a suitable show at court, and serve as a necessa- 
ry pageant to the crown. Various motives of policy 
have enlarged their number, and lessened the relative 
importance of the old noblesse. A recent innovation 
has excessively multiplied the number of titled persons. 
Formerly there were two or three orders of knighthood, 
very limited in extent, which served, sometimes, a use- 
ful purpose to the court or the ministry, in securing the 
support of some powerful peer, whose vanity was sigh- 
ing for a yard of blue riband. The republican princi- 
ple of public applause and esteem was generally sufficient 
for those who distinguished themselves in the public 
service. The practice of the continent, which made all 
such individuals courtiers, by giving them stars and ri- 
bands, has lately been adopted in England. One of the 
orders, particularly, has been greatly enlarged, and the 
continental forms adopted; — knights' grand crosses, and 
commanders, and knights' simple multiplied ; and the 
little, vain display of a piece of red riband, has convert- 
ed all these into courtiers, and multiplied the class of 
expectants for similar favours. Whether this change, 
which is a more considerable one than it appears, be 
useful or not, does not concern us, and 1 express no 
©pinion about it; but you will perceive that it multiplies 
greatly the number of privileged persons of a subaltern 
class, who take rank of those who are not thus decora- 
ted, and would add greatly to the number of persons to 
whose pretensions we should not accede. 

It is, perhaps, on the whole, a disadvantage to an Eng- 
lishman to come to this country with a title. It makes 
him conspicuous, and excites a kind of gaping curiosity 
among the frivolous, who know nothing of lords and 



169 

knights, but from play^ and novels. They are apt to 
associate an idea of superior polish and relineinent with 
a title, and when they are disappointed, in meeting this, 
the individual sinks as much too low in their apprecia- 
tion, as he was before too high. With graver persons 
there is an association, from reading history, with great 
names, that is wofully disappointed wlien they see the 
modern representative, condemned, with feeble faculties, 
to totter under the burden of an illustrious appellation. 
The illusion is dissipated, and there is none of the ha- 
bitual deference to mere rank, to keep up consideration. 
A man of genius, however, would, in this country, find 
it no disservice, unless he disliked notoriety. To such 
a man as Lord Byron, for instance, — his title would be 
no incumbrance; but the homage would be paid to the 
poet,* not to the lord. 

Such principles, it may be said, will have a tendency 
to keep up a proud, turbulent, ferocious spirit. It might 
be so, if they were confined to a few individuals. But 
their universality forms the corrective. Where they 
are generally felt, every man must acknowledge the 
same rights in others which he claims for himself, — and 
if he forgets to do this, he is immediately put in mind 
of it. On the contrary, the tendency may be rather to- 
wards an insincere deference and civility, than to an ar- 
rogant, supercilious demeanour; — since, as no public 
employment can be obtained but from the suffrages of 
others, the desire of popularity will generate habits of 
courtesy, where there is no real feeling of good-will. 

There can be no fear, neither, that this high feeling of 
equality will induce too much presumption, or make 



Tliis was written before Don Juan was published. — Alas ! 



170 



those who entertain it ridiculous and absurd ; yet, cases 
of this kind will, without doubt, sometimes occur. 
Though we are born with the same natural rights, a 
thousand circumstances vary our condition; — genius, 
education, and the numerous gradations of good and evil 
fortune, chequer and direct our course. None but a 
fool will deny that this man possesses greater talents, 
another greater wealth, or greater strength, than him- 
self, and every one will be ready to give precedence 
where it is due, that he may in turn enforce his own 
claims. It is the idea of abstract inferiority that we re- 
nounce and deny. We do not allow that any man comes 
into the world our superior, — that he is born with he- 
reditary privileges, which give him advantages over us, 
while in every other respect he may be decidedly our 
inferior. The divine right of kings, the infallibility of 
popes, the hereditary wisdom of senators, we laugh at, 
and consider quite as illegitimate as the pretension of 
certain Asiatic barbarians to a relationship with the 
sun and moon. 

These principles in substance, not in form, are gaining 
ground in the world. That true appreciation, which, 
founded on the generous maxim of original equality, 
disregards artificial, barbarous distinctions, and ranks 
men, not according to their birth, but their merit, is 
daily becoming more prevalent; the last thirty years 
has dene much towards it; the next will make a further 
addition. The amelioration is progressive, and unless 
the diffusion of intelligence is interrupted, must con- 
tinue, in spite of all the efforts of abuse, bigotry, and 
partial interests, to prevent it. Talents and services 
are constantly diminishing and eclipsing the preroga- 
tives of birth, and all those false distinctions which 



171 



arose in a barbarous period. Consider the dift'erence 
between a man of science in France, now and in the 
days of Louis XIV, ; observe the diflerent relations in 
which titled rank and untitled merit stand toward each 
other. Later policy has attempted to counteract the 
consequences, by enrolling the latter in the ranks of 
the former; but this is only a temporary expedient, which 
cannot turn the course of public sentiment. In Eng- 
land, where the disparity was less shocking than in France, 
it is easy to remark the change that has taken place; 
it may be discovered in all their works that treat of 
manners ; plays, novels, and poetry. The different stj'le 
of considering himself and of treating others, between a 
courtier, a century since, and now, is almost as great 
as it was in France. The man of rank does not value 
himself upon that, if he has any thing else to produce, 
and if he has not, he treats those more like his equals, 
who are in fact his superiors. The fellowship of man- 
kind has become much more equal, much more inti- 
mate. The tone of arrogance and insolent condescen- 
sion, which we read of in the manners of former times, 
would no longer be endured. 

Let us, my dear friend, glory in our country and its 
institutions : our ancestors laid the foundations for a 
noble empire; they came here with high ideas of free- 
dom, and their descendants have improved on the 
principles they left for them. The eyes of the world 
are turned towards us with anxiety and hope; we have 
made the boldest experiments in the science of govern- 
ment, hitherto with the most complete success, and 
unless our posterity prove recreant to example, to their 
own interests and honour, our experience will hereafter 
be claimed in favour of mankind. What immeasurablr 



172 



good will result, if it can be shown to the world thai a 
nation can dispense with the ruinous burdens of a 
hierarchy connected with the state, and an hereditary 
nobility: — and who in this country can doubt it ? Every 
day shows our constitution to be stronger, from being 
founded on the broad principles of natural justice; on 
the equal interests and affections of a whole people, 
than if it derived a precarious existence, by securing 
the interested support of a part, at the expense of the 
rest of the community. — Esto perpetua. 



Character and Condition of Women. 

My dear Friend, 

You smile at the pretty compliment I paid you 
when we last met, in having attributed the disagreeable 
weather we then felt to your agency; and accuse me of 
want of gallantry. I acknowledge it was a piece of awk- 
wardness, but you well understand that you must have the 
magnanimity to overlook occasional instances of it. 
1 know not how such a speech should have occurred to 
me, for I always feel as if in sunshine when in your 
presence : the truth, however, is, that it was owing to a 

certain c^ifusion of ideas. When you leave— , it seems 

to me as if there was nothing left there; that you bring 
every thing with you, and therefore that even the 
weather came too. A little reflection indeed would 
have convinced me of the absurdity of this; but it is 
impulse, not reflection, that governs your friends when 
they first meet you. 

What a task have you imposed upon me; it was done 
so lightly and so gracefully, that I thought it was easy 
at the moment, and yet when I come to consider the 



173 



undertaking seriously, I falter with the burden. An 
account of the condition, character, and manner of your 
sex here, and a comparison between these and the 
state of female society in other parts of the United 
States, and otlier countries, would be a performance of 
no less difficulty than interest. It would require great 
delicacy of perception, great accuracy of discrimina- 
tion, supported by long and intimate opportunities 
of observation. These requisites have not fallen to 
my lot, and I am disqualitied, besides, from a general 
tendency to admiration of your sex, which would 
prevent impartiality, and I have been too little favoured 
by circumstances to possess very intimate insight into 
female character. Still, to show my readiness to per- 
form whatever you eajoin, 1 will offer you a few re- 
marks on my countrywomen, claiming in advance your 
indulgence for any mistakes I may fall into, and that 
you will not attribute my deficiencies to any hesita- 
tion at receiving your injunctions as a law. 

My observations may perhaps prove too general and 
vague, as I should be afraid of exposing myself to 
great mistakes in going much into detail. Many things 
appear strange, which if we were acquainted with the 
motives of them, would be perfectly reasonable. — 

You may recollect, that when our friend , 

resolved to have his own furnished apartments, after 
having every thing in readiness to take possession, 
he bought a bushel of ashes ! Most persons thought 
this one of the unaccountable whims of a celibataire, 
but every person who had been in Paris, where he 
had formed so many of his habits, and seen the ad- 
mirable economy of a French fire-place, would have 

15 



174 



been satisfied with the foresight and convenience o'.' 
this preparation. 

From an accurate account of the condition of women 
in any country, it would not be diflicult to infer the 
whole state of society. So great is the influence they 
exercise on the character of men, that the latter will 
be elevated or degraded according to the situation of 
the weaker sex. Where women are slaves, as in 
Turkey, the men will be the same : where they are 
treated as moral beings, where their minds are cultiva- 
ted, and they are considered equals, the state of society 
must be high, and the character of men energetic and 
noble. There is so much quickness of comprehen- 
sion, so much susceptibility of pure and generous emo- 
tion, so much ardour of affection in women, that they 
constantly stimulate men to exertion, and have at the 
same time a most powerful agency in soothing the 
angry feelings, and in mitigating the harsh and narrow 
propensities, which are generated in the strife of the 
passions. 

How much of the decrepitude of Italy, of that fine 
country, where the people, as a whole, are so nerveless 
and submissive, while the individuals that compose it are 
gifted with the highest capacities and susceptibility; 
how much of this national imbecility might be traced 
to the monstrous and perverted condition of their wo- 
men! When young, they are kept out of sight, in strict 
subservience, till they are married : they receive the 
husband that is given them without objection, as the 
means of emancipation, and make a choice as soon as 
the nuptials are over. The object of this choice, the 
cavalier servente, becomes at once the most insignificant 
of slaves; and all this takes place with the consent and 



175 



approbation of society. How much of the misfortune of 
France may be traced to the less vicious, indeed, but false 
position of their females; where women are taught to 
be adroit, graceful, glittering, smart, intriguing, treated 
with unbounded deference, as objects of amusement, 
without one particle of real respect as women ; easily 
reconciled to the faithlessness of a husband, and satisfy- 
ing his honour, if they do not betray his interests. When 
the unity of domestic life is thus broken, the charm is 
gone; when home is cheerless, those who abandon it 
become profligate and reckless, and substitute noxious 
pleasures for its calm and genial delights. From a 
component part we may judge of the whole; a nation is 
an accumulation of families r where the happiness of the • 
latter is sapped, the disorder will pervade the system : 
if there is no private happiness, there can be no public 
spirit, no solid patriotism. Other motives must be sub- 
stituted, which increase the corruption; skill and energy 
may still govern such a nation, and make it powerful 
for a time, and for a long time; but the progress of decay 
is still going on, and destruction cannot be averted. 

Even in England, where a superior state of society is 
found, the situation of women is partially attainted with 
evil; but it may be hoped that this evil is not encroach- 
ing. In the middling classes, domestic life is well re- 
gulated and harmonious. All the influence of the female 
character is excited in the most desirable manner, and 
the virtues and energy of the nation are principally to 
be found within these limits. The two extremes of 
society have each their peculiar vices, which impair the 
respectability and mar the happiness of the females who 
belong to them. In the lowest ranks, particularly in the 
large towns, the men are addicted to drunkenness, and 



176 



spending a large portion of their earnings in a stupify 
ing habit of passing hours or even days together in 
their alehouses, smoking, and drinking strong beer. 
The wife is in the mean time struggling hard to keep 
herself and children, with the simplest necessaries of 
life, while her husband thus wastes all his surplus 
earnings; and when he comes home, in an intoxicated 
state, she is exposed to his brutality and cruelty. It is 
melancholy to see to what extent the lower class of. 
people ai'e infected with this brutality of excessive 
drinking. At the other extreme of society, the evil 
arises from more complicated causes ; and though con- 
fined to a few, the mischief is great, because the exam- 
ples are prominent and commanding. The people of 
the highest condition are not in reality the most pure 
and refined in their sentiments. Born to the certainty 
of high rank and great wealth, an early consciousness of 
their importance is developed ; the forward, insolent 
child becomes, afterwards, the headstrong arrogant man. 
The advantages of superior education are too often 
neglected; and the individual overwhelmed with tempta- 
tions, seldom makes those acquirements which would 
prevent his resorting to coarser gratifications. Too 
many motives of pride and ambition always interfere, 
to allow of marriages, founded on mutual affection. 
Haughtiness, egotism, the impatience of restraint, and 
the habit of profligate indulgences, soon interrupt the 
simplicity of domestic life, and the female is exposed 
either to the dreary blank of slighted afifection, or to 
the sad alternatives of bestowing them criminally. 

Take the condition of women among us throughout, 
comprehending all classes; and through their whole 
career, from infancy to age, I need not fear contra 



177 



♦liction in saying, that it is the most fortunate in the 
world. There are in other countries a few wlio are 
artificially elevated ; who have more power,- — and if 
power forms happiness, why then more happiness than 
any females in our country. In some nations, women 
who possess great attractions and accomplishments, 
are vastly more caressed and flattered for a period of 
their lives, than any of their sex are here; but they are 
afterwards often treated with the most mortifying ne- 
glect, which is embittered by the recollection of former 
attentions. But if there are none so high, there are 
none so low, as the thousands who are found on the 
other side of the Atlantic. No such figures as the 
streets, the markets, and the fields present in Europe, are 
to be seen here at all. The market-women of all des- 
criptions have a coarseness and hardihood, a masculine 
ugliness that we never witness. Nor is this confined to 
the towns; but in the country, as they are habitually 
occupied in the labours of agriculture, tanned by the 
sun, and hardened by exposure to the weather, and 
severe labour, the female peasantry present an aj)- 
pearance wholly unlike any class of women among us. 

To begin with the most numerous order, — with those 
who commence life with nothing but strength to labour 
for subsistence, and the hope of future competence : — 
In the country, or the towns, the females in this class 
are never exposed to work in the open air. All that is 
required out of doors is.performed by the men. That 
the women are very assiduously, and even laboriously 
employed, every one may witness, — but their Jabours 
aie almost wholly domestic, and performed under shel- 
ter. They are not seen driving market carts, standing 
in the street'^, carr^ ing heavy burdens, or engaged from 
15* 



178 



morning to night in the open fields. They are not ex- 
posed to the inclemency of the weather, to the promis- 
cuous mingling with the crowds of a city, or in large 
groupes in the toils of the field. They live secluded in 
the performance of their household labours, and rarely 
meet in any assemblage, except when they go in their 
best attire, with decency and solemnity, to public wor- 
ship. 

Besides, they have higher hopes than the labouring 
classes in Europe. The journeyman may look forward 
with certainty, to become, in a few years, if he has 
common skill and industry, a master workman in his 
turn. The farmer is not, as in Europe, a mere peasant, 
labouring on land which he never dreams of owning; 
but he is here a proprietor, and though he begins at 
first with only a log-house, and a piece of forest to be 
cleared, he is sure that, in the end, he shall possess a 
productive farm, and the means of comfortable sub- 
sistence. The women in these classes, who are often 
more refined and ambitious than the men, conduct them- 
selves with a view to their future situation, and often 
stimulate their husbands to those exertions for acquiring 
property and improving their children, in which they 
are willing to participate. This prospect of bettering 
their condition, operates very favourably to them, since 
it encourages the men to domestic habits and economy, 
by knowing their savings will all be productive of very 
compound advantage, and that, as they advance in life, 
they may look forward to a comfortable support from 
the results of former labour. In Europe, as hardly 
any individuals of the class of hired labourers ever ex- 
pect to get out of it, they spend all their earnings be- 
yond what is required for the bare subsistence of their 



179 



families, in drinking and idleness ; and the melancholy 
fact has been asserted, by some accurate inquirers, that 
a rise in their wages produces little otiier effect than a 
diminution of their industry, and an increase of dissipa- 
tion. I do not mean to assert that we are wholly free 
from this grievance. There is a wretched waste of 
money and health in the consumption of ardent spirits; 
but it bears no comparison with the evil in England, — 
and the degradation and misery entailed on women 
from this source, is here infinitely less. 

The excitement produced by this well-founded ex- 
pectation of rising in the world, has had many beneficial 
consequences. A degree of pride, and greater self- 
respect, have brought their aid to the assistance of some 
of the moral duties. If we may believe some tradition 
of former manners, there is a great improvement in 
them. The rapidity of intercourse, the increase of 
reading, and the activity of trade, have carried light 
into every district. ^ The fashions and opinions of the 
day make their way into the meanest village; — the con- 
duct of all is open to observation, and the tendency to 
assimilate is therefore universal. There are, no doubt, 
some inconveniences arising from this same source, but 
they are only inconveniences, — while the advantages 
are substantial and progressive. This sentiment pro- 
duces an evident reluctance in all services that are not 
gratuitous; and that awkward, vulgar pride, which is 
abashed by the superiority it is afraid to acknowledge, 
though it seldom acts offensively, by insult, yet shoivs 
itself too often in the defensive, by a cold and churlish 
demeanour. 

The pervading influence of fashion, to which I have 
iilluded, in doing away all peculiarities, may be advan- 



180 



tagcous in some respects; but it makes a sad diminution 
of the pleasure of the artist and the traveller, in de- 
stroying all variety, and much that is picturesque. A 
general fusion and blending of dress and manners, is the 
characteristic of the age. There will be, hereafter, no 
distinctions of costume to be met with. In Europe and 
in America the same fashions now make their way from 
Pai'is and London, to Naples and St. Petersbui'g, Boston 
and New-Orleans. There are still some districts in Eu- 
rope, in Holland, Italy, Switzerland, and France, where 
the inhabitants take a pride in maintaining their ancient 
dresses; — some of these are extremely pleasing, others 
highl}'^ grotesque. The women, of all ranks, at Caux, 
in Normandy, wear a head-dress, at least a yard in 
height, by the aid of wires, gauze, ribands, and their 
own hair. In Friesland, the female attire, though ar- 
ranged with great art, is in the highest degree absurd 
and ludicrous; and the same may be said of many other 
places. These preposterous dresses add much to the 
amusement of the traveller; — they illustrate the bar- 
barous taste of the times in which they originated, — but 
ofler nothing to be imitated. I am here tempted to 
mention a visionary scheme that has sometimes passed 
in my mind ; and as it will procure you a laugh, though 
at my expense, I am willing to communicate it. You 
must have often smiled at the deterioration which these 
European fashions suffer, by going through so many 
hands, most of them unskilful ones. These ill-made 
dresses appear the worse, from the gaudy materials of 
which they are composed; and silk and muslin attract a 
cruel attention, where homelier articles would pass 
without observation. Now, suppose our ladies were 
to resolve on a permanent peculiarity of costume, which 



181 



^should be subject to no change or deviation;^ — would not 
great advantages result from it ? — Let me allude to some 
of them. 

In the first place, the general taste is now very good, 
and the facilities for consulting the best standards, ex- 
tensive and entire. There is no danger that any Gothic 
extravagance, any cumbersome excrescences, or any 
bigoted prejudices, will interfere to produce deformity. 
It would not do to adopt a dress for a whole state; — this 
would produce too much uniformity, — but let it be 
marked by counties. Suppose two or three ladies from 
each town in a county should form a committee, to agree 
upon a dress for their county, — woollen for winter, and 
cotton for summer ; the pattern should be chosen that 
would best answer the purpose of convenience and 
symmetry : the bonnet and shoes, as well as the style of 
cap for the matron; of the hair for young women, would 
be regulated on the same principles. In having these 
forms once fixed, the mantua-makers would soon become 
more expert in making the clothes to fit, since that 
would be their only object, and not to attempt to imi- 
tate or invent new fancies. In one county the colour 
might be blue;' in another, brown, purple, green, &.c. 
with simple trimmings of a suitable colour, to form a 
harmonious contrast with them. The bonnet would be 
straw, black, or the natural colour, with ribands to ac- 
cord with the dress, and in any of those forms wliich 
would be most convenient and graceful. We should 
then never encounter a figure with green shoes, black 
stockings, a blue gown, and yellow bonnet, or any of 
those luckless attempts at display of fancy, whicli we 
sometimes meet, in the country and the town. Immense 
turns would be annually saved, that are now employed 



182 



in foreign productions, and every family might lay out 
these savings in objects of substantial comfort, in im- 
proving their farms, or in education of a higher kind. 
The materials of which the cloths would be composed, 
are of our own growth, wool and cotton. There would 
be nothing needed from abroad, except the ribands, and 
these would soon come to be made here. Our own 
manufacturers would be encouraged, because, when 
the article was once in permanent demand, and without 
capricious variation, they could soon bring it to perfec- 
tion, to the exclusion of foreign competition. If the 
principal families in every county consented to this ar- 
rangement, and agreed never to wear any other dress, 
except when they went out of the state, it would soon 
become a matter of pride, and a point of honour, to ap- 
pear in their own peculiar costume. A distinction 
would be made by those who could afford it, which would ■ 
not be offensive, because it would be less obvious, by 
wearing the same uniform dress, of finer texture. This 
would do away the envy and ruinous competition, that 
now takes so much from laborious earnings. 

I have slightly alluded to some of the incidental ad- 
vantages that might result from a voluntary regula- 
tion of dress, such as economy, encouragement of our 
own manufactures, kc. ; but these are triiies ; — the grand 
advantage is, that women would look better, and their 
charms would be better displayed. You will say, per- 
haps, that this might be the case with some, but how 
can it be with all ? Take a regiment with uniform, or 
without, individually, or in a body, — which looks best '^ 
Even the most ordinary are helped bj' the unifor^i dres.-^ . 
while those who are superior, acquire greater bril- 
liancy from it. Yet, it is in vain to propose such a 



183 



scheme ; the age is sophistical, and you are infected 
with its spirit. Tormerly, women dressed to please 
men, — but this simple, natural, honest motive has gone 
by. They now dress to please one another ; their cos- 
tume is as full of concetti as Italian poetry ; no man can 
understand it ; nor do you consider us at all; you dress 
to excite admiration or envy in your own sex, and it is 
their remarks, or their suffrage, that you attend to. 
There are a thousand futile, expensive nothings in em- 
broidery, &:c. that go to make it up, and which none but 
a milliner can appreciate. It would require less ex- 
pense and less time to please men, and the purpose would 
be more natural and more generous ; but it is in vain to 
repine; — we must submit in this, as in many other things, 
to the power of fashion. 

To return from this digression; — some of the advan- 
tages possessed by females in the labouring class, are 
also feit by those next above them; but as you rise in 
the scale of property, the disparity between the lot 
of women here and in Europe, is much less percepti- 
ble; though the prospect that opens before them, of 
advancing themselves or their children, is still the 
same. However humble may be the pursuit of the 
parents, their children, if gifted with talent, may, with 
suitable education, look forward to the highest distinc- 
tions. This produces some abortive attempts to quit 
their sphere, some murmuring at discomfiture; the good 
still predominates; a wider field for the selection of 
talent is opened; constant exertion is excited; a whole- 
some rivalry is kept alive, and in the growth of society 
the universal tendency is upwards. 

The last fifty years, which have so prodigiously ad- 
vanced the improvement of society every where, ha? 



184 



also witnessed a most salutary change in the educatiou 
of women, in the dajs of our grandmothers, it was 
rather an amiable accomplishment to be able to spell 
correctly and write legibly; nay, it was even considered 
in some countries derogatory to rank to be able to 
write well, which was thought to be only suited to 
authors, clerks, or similar subaltern employments. 
Grimm, in his Memoirs, gives a very amusing specimen 
of the gross ignorance of orthography in the famous 
Marshal Saxe, worthy of his illustrious station; and 
the ignorance of the Marshal was common to the higher 
ranks in his day. Fashions change Avith time; what 
would be held disgraceful now, was vaunted then. As 
the Parisian hairdresser, who, just previous to the 
Revolution, boasted to a traveller, whose hair he was 
bringing into fasliionable shape, " that though he was 
nothing but a poor barber, yet he had no more religion 
than the best philosopher of them all;" so many a 
tradseman might boast, that he could not write any 
better than the greatest nobleman about the court. — 
" Heaven first taught letters for some wretch's aid," — 
but the boon was long imperfectly known ; very 
serious concerns were necessarily intrusted to the 
fidelity of a third person; and if an impatient lover 
received a billet muscque, he could hardly tell whether 
the hieroglyphics it contained conveyed love or hatred. 
The reform in this respect commenced with men, 
after it became evident, that if rank had the power to 
save vice from contempt, it could not shield ignorance. 
When it was proposed to extend the advantages of 
education to the other sex, a strong opposition was 
raised; which though it has been obliged to cede point 
after point, still maintains itself within narrowed limits. 



18S 



Those women even, who had been brought up in ' the 
good, old fashion way,' — were many of them desirous 
that their daughters should be as ignorant as themselves. 
Men, whose wives had more sense than their lords, 
still asserted their own superiority, because they had 
more learning; but if women could construe a line in 
Virgil, or go through a process in arithmetic, as well 
as they, this high-minded superiority would be destroy- 
ed. All who were attached to the abuse from habit or 
profit, were, as usual, sturdy in its defence. But these 
efiForts are in vain on a great scale, or where any 
general question is involved. The spirit of improve- 
ment, which was called into vigour b}' the invention of 
printing, has been gaining ground with an increasing 
ratio ever since. We may as well attempt to stop the 
passage of the light which has not yet reached us from 
remote stars, as to arrest its progress; it will penetrate 
to the darkest corners in time. 

It sickens the heart to consider the monstrous extent 
to which the selfishness of mankind will carry abuses. 
One body will contend that a whole nation shall be 
degraded, that they may enjoy an hereditary superiority; 
another, that the people shall not be taught to read, lest 
they should learn that their condition might be improved; 
another, that they shall not have a Bible, for fear they 
might be puzzled in reconciling what is taught with 
what was commanded. This same feeling existed 
among many narrow-minded men, respecting the educa- 
tion of women ; they would keep them ignorant, in or- 
der to give to their own attainments an arrogant superi- 
ority; or if they taught them any thing else than house- 
hold aflairs, it would be some showy accomplishment : — 
To instruct their minds ? to teach them to think ? No, 
16 



186 



that was to be depreciated. Men with this slight modifi- 
cation of Turkish spirit, commonly employ arguments 
that are worthy of its views; yet even good arguments 
will not long support false views. If there was former- 
ly much time wasted in the education of boys, by an im- 
proper distribution of studies, it was vastly worse with 
respect to girls; whole years of their time were thrown 
away in the repetition of the most insignificant pursuits, 
or in attaining excellence in tedious futilities. Each sex 
has some studies that are appropriate ; girls need not 
learn fencing; they can reach our hearts without it; nor 
a boy embroidery, eVen though he should employ his 
skill, like Ferdinand of Spain, on a petticoat for the 
Virgin; yet there are many studies that may be common 
to both, the pursuit of which will have a useful influence 
in assimilating their taste, multiplying their sympathies, 
elevating their character, and increasing their happiness. 
It is singularity only that should be avoided, except 
under rare and peculiar circumstances. If but one 
girl in a town could construe Latin, or tell the composi- 
tion of atmospheric air, it might make her very unhap- 
py, or ridiculous, or both; but when this instruction is 
more generally diffused, it ceases to create vanity, or to 
give rise to a taunting painful notoriety. 

The children of both sexes enjoy equally the advan- 
tage of our common schools. There are, besides, many 
academies and private schools for females exclusively, 
besides boarding-schools in and near the large towns. 
In some of these the course of instruction runs high, 
and is accompanied by what are commonly called accom- 
plishments. In many instances the girls are taught 
Latin, not that it is of much consequence to them to 
know that language, or that they are expected to follow 



187 



the steps of Madame Dacier; but as grammar is every 
where taught, they can acquire a knowledge of the 
general principles from the Latin grammar, in a more 
amusing way, than by the study of the English one, and 
even a slight insight into the Latin, facilitates con- 
siderably the acquisition of French and Italian, which 
form an important part of an accomplished education. 
There are examples among our females of very con- 
siderable proficiency in more than one of the learned 
languages ; and in those I have known, this know- 
ledge has not made them pedantic; nor did they seem 
to perform the ordinary duties of domestic life the 
worse, though they knew that the jEneid was written in 
Latin, and the Iliad in Greek,and could translate a passage 
from either. 

The advantages of giving a superior education to 
women, are not confined to themselves, but have a 
salutary influence on our sex. The fear, that increased 
instruction will render them incompetent or neglectful 
in domestic life, is absurd in theory, and completely 
destroyed by facts. Women, as well as men, when 
once established in life, know that there is an end of tri- 
fling; its solicitudes and duties multiply upon them equally 
fast; the former are apt to feel them much more keenly, 
and too frequently abandon all previous acquirements, 
to devote themselves wholly to these. But if your sex 
have cultivated and refined minds, miije must meet them 
from shame, if not from sympathy. If a man finds that 
his wife is not a mere nurse or a housekeeper; that she 
can, when the occupations of the day are OTer, enliven a 
winter's evening; that she can conrerse on the usual 
topics of literature, and enjoy the pleasures of superior 
conversation, or the reading of a valuable book, he 
must have a perverted taste, indeed, if it does not make 



188 



home still clearer, and prevent him from resorting tt> 
taverns for recreation. The benefits to her children 
need not be mentioned; instruction and cultivated taste 
in a mother, enhance their respect and affection for 
her and their love of home, and throw a charm over 
the whole scene of domestic life. 

These effects are widely shown, especially in that 
numerous class who have received a good education, but 
whose moderate fortune or retired residence keeps 
them from mixing in the gayeties and crowded circles 
of fashionable life. The charms of literature are 
here a useful equivalent for less quiet amusements. 
Indeed an acquaintance with the literature of the day 
is at least affected by every one; and a new work, or a 
new Review, is the common topic of conversation in 
every party. In cotemporaneous literature, women are 
perhaps greater readers than men, and often quite as 
good judges, though less confident in giving their 
opinions. The common subjects of chat with young 
men in the society of your sex, are the merits of a new 
work; they sometimes, at the risk of a little silent ridi- 
cule, volunteer instruction, ia a tone of condescen- 
dence to those who have much more delicacy and tact 
in judging than their kind instructors : this, however, 
promotes amusement, and ladies are amply gratified: 
for they, unlike the Turkish women, have 

" Many bustling Botlierby's, to show 'em 
The finest passage in the last new poem." 

The manners of our women in the leading ranks of 
society, are highly pleasing. They are gentle, refined, 
simple, affectionate. When intimately known, they will, 
I think, bear an advantageous comparison with those of 
any other country. They are not perfect, indeed; — 



189 



mind I am speaking generally; — but they leave little to 
desire. That little, perhaps, would be a greater degree of 
confidence, the shaking off that timidity, which commu- 
nicates embarrassment, suppresses too much the ex- 
pression of emotion, and sometimes the promptitude 
to render little services, which they would gladly per- 
form. This also makes them rather too retiring; the 
married women become too suddenly matronal; are too 
apt to shrink from the task — the word is used confiden- 
tially — of amusing and being amused in society; and 
leaving it to young girls, who are less competent to 
keep conversation from becoming insipid or inane. 

It is difficult to compare our women with those of 
France or England, because their manners, as well as 
their dress, resemble neither entirely, but partake con- 
siderably of both. Their dress is less foppish and ex- 
travagant than the French; less crude and fanciful 
than the English. Their manners are less artificial 
and sparkling than the former; less bold and decided 
than the latter. The crowds and the vices of the 
great European cities produce a degree of impudence 
in men in high life; in their mode of staring at and 
examining the appearance of women. This, which, when 
it occurs here, excites downright alarm, is met in 
France by a coquettish shrinking; in England by a 
passive defiance. An American is immediately struck 
with manners to which he is so unaccustomed, and will 
perhaps be more confounded at the defensive and some- 
times offensive stare of a woman of high ton, than any 
thing else he can encounter. 

In regard to beauty, 1 am too much under immediate 
influence to be impartial in regard to distant claims; 
and you will perhaps think, knowing how wholly 1 am 
IG* 



190 



subdued — that any thing said for transatlantic preten- 
sions, may be a feeble attempt to escape from thraldom, 
which after all it would be painful to renounce. The 
American women, though their manners are almost as 
different as their language from the French, resemble 
them more in some respects, and would be more easily 
assimilated with them than with the English. A per- 
sonage of very high rank in England, who had seen 
in society, three or four times, two of our country- 
women, who were sisters, inquired, "who are those 
two little Frenchwomen ?" And most persons would 
make the same mistake with respect to American 
women in England, especially those whom they should 
meet in the circles of fashionable life. Our women 
have the advantage over the French women in com- 
plexion, but have a less lively expression; the En::lish 
women have perhaps still liner complexions than ours, 
but the texture of their skin is coarser, which diminishes 
the air of feminine softness, that is common both to 
French and American women. The English women 
are more robust than either of the others; their tem- 
perate climate enables them to take more exercise: 
they are, generally speaking, a stouter race; their frames 
are larger, and they have a s^tronger and more sub- 
stantial appearance. Compared with English, or even 
French ladies, ours have an air of languor, and a slow- 
ness in their movements and talking, which you know 
\n the southern states is carried to excess. Vivacity 
and readiness are the characieristic traits of the French; 
alacrity and energy tho^•e of the English; and languor 
and softness those of our women. Vivacity forms the 
greatest contrast with the general manners of the last; 
a languishing air with those of the two former; hence 



191 



a common object of affectation with French and English 
women, is to put on an air of sentimental or voluptuous 
languor, and in this country to assume a tone of 
sprightliness. 

The comparison between our ladies and those of the 
middle states, I am unable to make with any degree of 
precision. The shades of difference must, of course, 
be very slight and delicate, and I have not studied them 
enough to make the description distinct. There is a 
much greater mixture of foreign manners in New-York, 
Philadelphia, and Baltimore, than exists here; — their 
ladies dress more, and perhaps better, than ours. They 
make a display in the streets, particularly in New- York, 
which is never done with us; nor would any persons, 
except mere spectators, wish to see the custom intro- 
duced. The excessive sobriety of the Quaker costume, 
and a more true taste, have simplified the walking cos- 
tume, and, indeed, all others in Philadelphia ; and it is, 
I believe, generally admitted, that women dress better 
there than in any other of our cities. Female dress 
here, used to be too homely at one time, and too gaudy 
at another ; both these extremes have been corrected, 
and if, on some occasions, a little more elegance might 
be indulged, without extravagance, it is generally what 
is decent and suitable, — neither sinning through parsi- 
mony and neglect, nor by ostentation and expense. 

There is one remark on a peculiarity of manners, 
which I make with less reluctance, as 1 know my opinion 
accords with your's. In Philadelphia and New-York, 
there is sometimes seen a decided, avowed intention at 
display, and a confidence in aiming to be conspicuous, 
in young girls, which is any thing but engaging. At a 
ball, or in a large assembly, they talk and laugh loud, 



192 



and get a circle round them; and the ambition to be 
what is called a dashing belle, leads to the very con- 
fines of romping. I have often been amused at observ- 
ing the expression in the countenance of a foreigner, 
which is produced by the utter confusion of ideas such 
conduct creates in his mind. The mothers are to blame. 
They push their daughters forward, prematurely, and 
encourage them to assume* a leading tone, which they 
have not experience enough to support with dignity or 
safety. The most interesting and delightful of all ob- 
jects, a brilliant, fine, young woman, loses half her love- 
liness, when she is seen presuming, openly, on her at- 
tractions, in a crowded circle, and using, with boldness, 
all the arts of rivalry, to maintain pre-eminence. This 
fashion has not yet encroached upon the primitive re- 
serve of our manners ; and (though for somewhat dif- 
ferent reasons) would not be tolerated here, any more 
than in Europe. 

You must not think me harsh in censuring, or that I 
mistake the grounds of this levity. Our young women 
are in the situation in which Innocence is represented 
by the allegory to have been, in the golden age, whea 
she walked forth, accompanied with Courage and Confi- 
dence, while Guilt was attended with Bashfulness and 
Fear. As the world grew worse, they changed com- 
panions, — and long may it be, ere the corruption of our 
manners shall render the exchange necessary here. 
Let all the playfulness, all the vivacity that youth and 
happiness can produce, be discovered among familiar 
friends ; let no unreasonable check be given to this ; 
we have hardly enough of it, either for the health of 
mind or body ; but let us beware of inducing our young 
girls to an ostentation of gayety in public, or attempting 



193 



to usurp supremacy in a ball-room. It leads them too 
immediately under the dominion of the giddy, or the 
corrosive passions ; it makes them the victims of vanity 
or envy. 

No one can be insensible of the invaluable blessings 
which arise from a state of society, where young girls 
can be thus protected ; and where even many of those 
who have fluttered the gayest in the circles of fashion, 
renounce every amusement as soon as they are married, 
to devote themselves wholly to the duties and solici- 
tude of domestic life. No one can wish to see our girls 
shut up in convents, or kept under the severest restraint; 
our married women become coquettes, and our young 
men cavalieri servente. But there are many interme- 
diate stages. Married women too readily renounce all 
exertion in society, which is apt to become insipid to 
them, when they are once engaged in the serious cares 
of life. Yet these need not be neglected, though social 
intercourse be maintained ; the habit of the latter, on 
the contrary, will alleviate the burden of the former. 
To engage in both, however, requires exertion ; and, 
perhaps, there may be some foundation for the reproach 
of indolence, where either is disregarded. 

The pleasures of society are certainly lessened, even 
if no other injury results to those who partake of it, 
when they, whose characters are formed, and whose 
standing is fixed, recede too soon, or too much, from 
giving a direction to conversation and amusement. If 
they abandon this almost wholly to girls, the general 
characteristics of every gay circle must become more 
light and frivolous. Girls can neither have the expe- 
rience nor the confidence to sustain any general con- 
versation, that lakes other topics than the merest trifles, 



194 



and the happy propensity of their time of life, to mere 
frolic and playfulness, renders it necessary to introduce 
suitable companions. Boys are then brought forward, 
prematurely, and where they are intruded, there is an 
end of all etiquette, and of that deference and courtesy 
which form the charm of large parties. There are 
some who fancy that our fashionable assemblies have de- 
teriorated in this way. 

I have already dilated on the advantages which your 
sex enjoy in education here. There are few villages 
to be met, where there are not several men who have 
received a college education. Their conversation, their 
books, and their instruction, have had an influence on 
the education of females. A facility afl'orded to those 
who wanted to go a little beyond what they were taught 
at school, and the difficulty of procuring masters for po- 
lite accomplishments, has given them more leisure for 
reading, and made them endeavour to compensate for 
any deficiency in lighter attainments, by more solid in- 
formation. 

This state of things is very unlike what exists in the 
middle states, where the institutions for education were 
in former times too much neglected, and where even the 
sons of wealthy people received little more than the 
commonest school education. The perverse fanaticism 
of the Quakers, who had formerly a preponderating in- 
fluence, and who. on a system of sobriety, industry, integ- 
rity and neatness, taught only the ureat art of tbiiving in 
the world, and proscribed all other kinds of knowledge, 
endeavouring to give the same drab or russet hue to 
their minds which they had done to their garments, pro- 
duced an unfortunate neglect of all intellectual cultiva- 
tion. If the boys were only taught to read, write, and 



195 



cipher, the girls must be content with a lower degree of 
instruction in these accomplishments. In short, if the 
latter could read their Bibles, and calculate a domestic 
bargain, their mental instruction was completed. 

Fortunately this state of education has been improved 
of late years, and even the Quakers begin to tind that 
learning is not sinful; and that their sect must either 
keep pace with the spirit of the age, or sink into insig- 
nificance ; — as there is an end of persecution, they have 
no other mode of maintaining their corps, or attaching 
any high respectability to themselves. While the mind 
was thus neglected, the personal appearance was im- 
proved, and graceful manners widely diffused. The in- 
fluence of the Quakers was here useful. Those females 
of their sect who did not feel the importance of that part 
of religion which consisted in wearing an ill-shaped, 
ugly coloured gown, or a queer little bonnet, prepos- 
terously prim, chose a more becoming and less affected 
costume. Their former habits, and a wish to avoid too 
glaring a departure from their friends, still inclined 
them to the Quaker simplicity, — only, instead of itsun- 
comeliness, substituting elegance. The influence of a 
large city was also felt; and as Philadelphia acquired a 
distinguished society while it was the seat of govern- 
ment, which it has never wholly lost; an air of grace- 
fulness, and the tone of fashionable life, was given to 
their principal circles, and which, like every thing else 
in this country, was readily imitated, and widely diffused. 
The same advantages were wanting here, and a less 
uniform turn, less appearance of the fashionable drill, 
more of a militia character of dress and movement , were 
prevalent. In short, you will sometimes meet there, 
Under a very fashionable dress and manner, a most com- 



196 



posing degree of ignorance. You will often find here 
much mental acquirement, under an exterior of con- 
summate awkwardness and timidity. 

I am afraid I have tired you; but you encountered 
this risk when you gave me permission to write. I could 
still linger near this subject, if my letter was not grow- 
ing to a volume. It is one, on which, though a constant 
observer, I am but an indifferent critic. You know the 
reason, — the 

" allegiance and fast fealty 



Which I do owe unto all woman kynd." 

Would that they had an abler champion. They can- 
not have a more respectful admirer. 

P. S. You speak of your ' enemies.' — I think you 
must be mistaken. I cannot conceive that you should 
have any. If, however, it be so, I will repeat the la- 
conic prayer of a zealous clergyman, during the war; 
" may they be soon brought to reason, or to ruin." 



LETTER IX. 

Agriculture . 

I know of nothing, my dear Sir, that is a subject for 
more real congratulation than the attention recently 
given to agriculture, and the spirit for improving it, 
that is pervading every district in the Union. It was 
indeed quite time for this disposition to show itself. 
The truth will be less painful now, since we have begun 
to amend; but certainly there was no country, where 



197 



greater ignorance, or greater neglect of this science, 
could be witnessed, than in the United States. This was 
owing to different causes in different parts of the 
country. In the south and the west, the proprietors 
held land enough to persist in bad management for two 
or three generations; an exuberant soil produced 
abundant crops, without artificial enrichment or very 
heavy labour; when one field was exhausted, another 
was cleared, and tilled to poverty in its turn. This kind 
of farming so impoverished the country in some of the 
older districts, that the inhabitants were at length left 
to choose between emigration to a new region, or the 
employment of greater care and skill on their old forms: 
too many of them perhaps preferred the former. In 
this quarter a less fertile soil always demanded more 
labour; yet few attempts were made to go out of the 
common routine of a very restricted cultivation, and 
the inclination was almost universal, to devote all their 
skill and capital to some of the branches of trade, 
considering all exertions to derive a greater profit from 
agriculture as hopeless. The spirit of emigration also, 
acting with full force on an enterprising people, easily 
induced them to go to new states, in pursuit of the real 
or delusive advantages that were held out to them. 
This constant draining from our population, while it 
afforded a hardy vigorous race for the cultivation of 
new territories, and which may have produced a great- 
er increase to the ultimate good, and power of the 
nation, than would have happened if these emigrants 
had remained stationary, still occasioned some local 
disadvantages. In the first place, it prevented the 
inhabitants from thinking of any improvement; if their 
form was not sufficiently productive, the easy remedy to 
17 



198 



a restless people, was to sell it, collect their effects and 
go five or fifteen hundred miles (the distance, greater or 
less, was not thought of) in pursuit of a richer soil. It 
was not hy the employment of greater skill, but by a 
change of location, that they sought to improve their 
condition. Improvement was discouraged in another 
way, not by the high rate of wages, which this facility of 
obtaining new land had a tendency to maintain; (high 
wages are a gain to the community at larger) but by keep- 
ing our population always scattered and thin, it prevent- 
ed the means of bringing together, occasionally, a large 
body of labourers, which is sometimes very important, 
for the security of crops in extended cultivation. 

There are two things that have been injurious to the 
agriculture of the* United States; one of which may be 
remedied in time; the other will always continue. The 
first, is the occupation of too much land, so that the 
labour applied to it can only produce a v ery imperfect 
tillage ; the other, is the irregularities of the chmates : 
this is every where felt; in the eastern states it is an 
untimely frost in June; in the southern it is the same 
accident in March, that injures the respective crops of 
these diiferent territories; our geographical and atmos- 
pherical position, if I may use the expression, wilt 
always subject us to these evils. But it is the considera- 
tion of these unfavourable circumstances, in this quarter 
only, that comes within my purpose. With regard to 
the land, there is hardly a farm where the quantity of 
ground in tillage is not too much for the strength that is 
to be employed upon it; hence, not only the labour, but 
the manure being diffused over too large a surface, are 
both too much diluted in their power. 

The evil consequences are not only immediate, in 



199 



giving a less amount of produce in each year, but a 
permanent gain is prevented. If the farmer, who now 
tills ten acres, were to contine his efforts to eight, his 
harvest would not only be equal the present year, but 
the prospective value of his farm would be enhanced. 
A more complete tilth and a heavier stock of manure 
upon the diminished space, would leave it, after the crop 
was taken, more mellow and in better heart. It would 
not only yield more now, but it would afford greater 
returns hereafter. If two farmers were selected, who 
should possess about the same degree of industry, skill, 
and means for labour, and who should proceed in their 
cultivation on lands of the same quality, one of them 
stirring more surface than the other, I have no hesi- 
tation in believing that he who cultivated one-fifth 
or one quarter less in quantity, would, besides having an 
equal harvest annually, find at the end of ten years 
that his farm was worth double that belonging to his 
competitor. The evil in question is so radical and 
extensive, that its bad consequences cannot be too 
often pointed out : though it is the most obvious, and 
has been most frequently remarked upon, it is still 
almost universal. 

With regard to our climate, the greatest evil is its 
uncertainty; in other respects, it may be as favourable 
to agriculture as most others. It is true, the long con- 
tinuance of winter, by depriving cattle of pasturage, 
and by interrupting a great deal of agricultural labour, 
which niust all be crowded into the remaining part of 
the year, is a serious inconvenience; but then compare 
it with countries that escape this evil, and you will find 
them without the ripening warmth of our summers, 
and drenched with rain and fogs in the autumn and early 



200 



part of winter, when we are blessed with clear side* 
and a fine temperature. The accidents we are liable 
to from late springs and late frosts, are a peculiar evil, 
which we shall never escape, but which we may pro- 
vide against much better than we do now. This evil 
is felt most by the farmer in the cultivation of Indian 
corn. A late spring throws him too far into the summer; 
a late frost sometimes cuts him off altogether. And 
yet, if raising the plants in a hot-bed, and then trans- 
planting them, could be practised successfully, both these 
evils would be remedied; but such has been our supine- 
ness with regard to agricultural improvement, that I 
doubt if the experiment has ev^r been tried decisively. 
The facilities every where afl'orded to our citizens 
for engaging in trade, and the great profits that for a 
considerable period accrued from it, fostered a general 
inclination to place all their means in this pursuit rather 
than in agriculture; and of late years, at least, this has 
been a very unprofitable course to many. The atten- 
tion of intelligent and enterprising men was thus di- 
verted from their farms to other concerns; no attempts 
were made at improvement; no man thought of wasting 
his skill upon agriculture. Very little attention was 
paid to the breed of cattle or horses; the making of 
butter and cheese was miserably neglected, since it 
was found that, however bad it might be, a market would 
be procured for it. The routine of cultivation at least pre- 
served the primitive simplicity of our puritan forefathers. 
A field of Indian corn, with a border of potatoes, a few 
fields of the small grains, turned at the intervals of a 
few years into grass lands, formed the whole system; 
and the only part of this that was performed with neat- 
ness and care, was the cultivation ol Indian corn. Thi« 



201 



commonly received two or three ploughings and 
hoeings, was kept free from weeds; and this plant, so 
beautiiul in all its stages, formed the only fields that 
were an exception to the general neglect and ignorance 
of agriculture. No root crops were thouglit of for 
the sustenance of animals : indeed, with the exception 
of working oxen, if the others were kept from starv- 
ing through the winter, the farmer was satisfied, and 
each year was made to balance its own accounts. In a 
plentiful one, all that was raised was consumed; and if 
a little waste was necessary to effect this purpose, it 
was readily resorted to. The abundance of one season 
was not calculated upon to suj)ply the deficiencies of 
the next : if there was a large crop of corn, the oxen, 
pigs, and turkeys were somewhat fatter; and if there was 
any hay left through the winter, it was considered a nui- 
sance; old hay being held to be poor stufl'. It w ould have 
been dilhcult to find ten farmers in a county who ever 
looked forward to blend the operations of two or three 
years together. In an unfavourable season they exerted 
themselves to make the two ends meet, by keeping their 
stock alive; but the bounty of a prosperous one was 
thrown away, except that the cattle fared better, and 
therefore yielded something more to the owner. That 
this was the general state of our agriculture, and that too 
much of it fetill continues the same, no one who knows it 
can deny. The only exceptions are the farmers who 
raised roots in some places for exportation, and the 
market gardeners in the vicinity of one or two large 
towns. 

Even the attempts that were made at improvement, 
were cited as evidence against the possibility of deriving 

any thing from farming. An experimentalist, having 
17* 



202 

surrounded his fields with expensive fences, erected 
spacious, showy barns, planted orchards, and when once 
planted, considered that work as done, would cultivate 
his farm without much economy of labour, but an ab- 
solute one of manures, especially all those of a perma- 
nent nature; and finding his whole produce to consist of 
a few tons of hay, a few bushels of corn and potatoes, 
would assure you, from his own knowledge, which he 
had paid dearly for, that it was impossible to derive any 
thing from farming. So a few years since, when a sud- 
den mania took possession of the public about the me- 
rino sheep, and a man thought he had nothing to do but 
to buy a flock of merinos, give a hundred dollars a piece 
for them, and send them to a farm, under the charge of 
a man who knew nothing about their management, aided, 
however, by his neighbour's dogs ; the result was 
cited with a significant look, or a knowing remark, as 
showing the folly of attempting to derive any thing from 
farming in this country. 

Among the advantages which the farmer possesses, 
the first may be considered, his exemption from rent, 
tithes, and burdensome taxes. The land is subjected 
to no species of feudal imposition; the common tenure 
is in fee simple, and there is no rent, unless the interest 
of the purchase money, which is small, can be so con- 
sidered. There are no tithes; — religion and education 
are, to be sure, supported every where, — but at a very 
moderate expense, since nothing can be exacted by . 
luxury; and each individual pays his contribution to I 
what sect he chooses. There are no burdensome taxes; ; 
those which would be most so, the mihtia, and highway ■; 
labours, are lightened by being paid in personal ser- 
Tice, at the most convenient seasons; — and an intelli- 



n 



203 

gent and free people, who voluntarily impose these du- 
ties upon themselves, know that they are essential, the 
one to the common good, and the other to the preserva- 
tion of their rights. The wages of labour are, indeed, 
higher; — what goes in Europe to the exactions of the 
government, is here retained by the labourer, whose 
strength is sustained by plentiful nourishment, and who 
is enabled to lay up something from his earnings. 

The next advantage is, that he supplies the dearest 
market in the world, and has great facilities for getting 
to it. There being no check, no limit whatever, to 
exportation, the prices of the main articles of food are 
regulated here, not by the wants and supplies of the 
country, but by the general wants of the world. The 
commerce in grain being wholly unrestricted, a bad 
season in Europe is a premium to the farmer here; and 
the fact has been, that we have always paid a higher 
price for bread than has been paid in Europe. This 
main article of food regulates all the rest. But another 
instance may be cited, which proves how advantageous 
^a market our farmers possess for their produce ; — I be- 
lieve it will be found, on examination, that the price of 
hay has been as high in Boston, and elsewhere in pro- 
portion, for a series of years, as it has been in London 

An advantage to the farmer, individually, and a very 
important benefit in its general results, is owing to the 
use of oxen, instead of horses, in almost all agricultural 
labour. This practice has been recommended in other 
countries with no great success. The strength, the pa- 
tience, the docility of these animals, are admirable, — 
and from the universal habit of using them, it may be 
supposed they are managed with great adroitness. Yet, 
in most places, the whip is made use of, in driving them, 



204 



though the goad is the true instrument. It is an amus- 
ing thing to observe a skilful teamster, with two j'oke of 
good oxen, which constitutes the common force of the 
teams, manoeuvring them where any considerable effort, 
or nicety in driving, is necessary ; — each ox has his own 
name, and much is done bj' the tones of voice, in alter- 
nately threatening, entreating, and encouraging the ani- 
mals, who, in spite of their clumsy appearance, when it 
is necessary to make way in a narrow, difficult road, are 
more manageable than horses. A gentleman- from a 
distant state, who had passed the summer among us, on 
his return, met, at a very narrow place in the road, a 
wagon, with a team of oxen. It seemed impossible to 
pass, and as he discovered some uneasiness, his coach- 
man, whose mind had been deeply impressed with what 
he had seen of the management of oxen, told him ; " O, 
Sir, there is no danger ; these oxen know a great deal 
more than our people at home." In fact, after various 
ejaculations, which none but the oxen could understand, 
a due degree of backing and advancing, the wagon was 
at last adjusted, so that the carriage might pass, — greatly 
to the admiration of its owner. After a life of labour, 
this valuable creature, when killed, is worth at least his 
first cost to his owner; — while the horse, supposing the 
cost of supporting him and his labour to have been the 
same, is entirely worthless. 

A prospective advantage, of great importance to this 
whole section, is, that the best lands, even in the culti- 
vated and populous districts, with the exception of the 
intervale on the banks of rivers, are yet to be reclaim- 
ed. There are tens of thousands of acres of wet, 
swampy lands, that may be easily and cheaply drained, 
that are now wholly without value, except in the supplj 



205 



of firewood, which is generally of slow growth, and in- 
ferior quality. These low grounds, sufficiently raised, 
however, to be almost every where susceptible of being 
completely drained, so that in many cases they might be 
used for the planting of corn, are commonly composed 
of a'rich, deep soil, the deposite from the neighbouring 
uplands. When so far cleared as to produce their na- 
tural grasses, the growth is so coarse, that it is hardly 
worth the trouble of curing ; while the same lands, if 
drained, and sowed with the cultivated grasses, would 
give the heaviest crops of the most valuable hay. A 
considerable quantity of rich upland, which is now de- 
voted to this purpose, would then be liberated for the 
purposes of tillage. Besides, these moist meadows are 
certain in their produce, and in dry seasons, when the 
grafts on the uplands hardly yields a quantity worth 
mowing, would give a rich harvest. The grasses, too, 
which soon run out on dry lands, in a moist, deep soil, 
may be considered permanent. A good many spots 
have been thus converted, within a few years, from pro- 
ducing mere useless weeds, to the finest sward of nu- 
tritious grasses; and increasing attention is given to 
these neglected grounds. Those who have examined 
the surface of the country, know that there is much 
greater proportion of these lands than would be at first 
imagined, which are capable of being easily brousiht 
into use, and changed from the most worthless, to the 
most valuable land in the country. 

There is another description of land, of which very 
large tracts are found on every part of the sea-coast, 
which is a reproach to our agricultural management. I 
allude to the salt marshes. These are generally com- 
posed of a fat, rich soil, often several feet in depth. At 



206 

present they produce a crop of hay, which is worth only 
half the price of the upland produce. Attempts have 
been made in many places to dike out the sea-water; 
in some few the most luxuriant crops have followed ; in 
most others, the natural grasses have been destroyed, 
the land run to waste, and after a few years, the salt 
water has been again admitted to cover them. Doubt- 
less, the growth they furnish, the depth of soil, and 
other circumstances, may make some of these lands more 
difficult to be reclaimed than others. But, I doubt 
whether most of the experiments have been well con- 
ducted, and whether they have not failed from being 
made imperfectly. Though the tide has been kept from 
overflowing the surface, the water within has been 
kept too near its level to permit the soil being properly 
freshened. Thousands and thousands of acres of land 
in England, that were once overflowed by the tide, have 
been embanked, and now produce the richest crops. 
In Flanders and Holland, half the country must have 
been originally in this situation; and lands now below 
the level of the tides produce not only the finest hay, 
but are cultivated with vegetables and grain. Some of 
the richest lands we have might be made to do the same 
here, and would afford the richest returns, instead of a 
sorry crop of salt hay. It is a prominent object in our 
agriculture, that a full experiment, on a large scale, 
should be made with these valuable lands, of which we 
possess such extensive tracts. 

The prosperity of our agriculture will be greatly pro- 
moted by agricultural societies, recently establisjhed, 
and whose influence has been already shown. It is in 
a great degree owing to ^uch societies that Great Britain 
has made such advances in asiiculture within the last 



207 



sixty years. The agricultural skill in many parts of that 
magnificent island, is fully equ;il,"if not superior, to what 
is displayed in Lombardy and Flanders, the finest culti- 
vated regions in Europe. These societies will be here, 
as they have been there, the patrons of various ex- 
periments : from the success of some of these, and even 
the failure of others, very essential improvements will 
result. They rouse the attention of farmers, they 
collect and diffuse information, and they excite an 
emulation that animates the whole agricultural interest. 
Their inlluence, undervalued by many, regarded with 
inditTerence by more, is fully appreciated by only a few. 
Yet they have already furnished indications of the 
benefits that will flovv from them; and the early and 
rapid improvement of our long neglected agriculture 
has followed their establishment. Many persons mis- 
take the object of them, by a very narrow view of their 
proceedings; they can see no advantage in giving a prize 
for an ox or a wether, too fat to be eaten, or a cumbrous 
growth on a single acre. Yet these are extremes, 
little more than curiosities in themselves, that show the 
limits of capability. But it is the instruction they 
afford, the emulation they create, that constitutes their 
utility. By showing the extent of what can be done, 
they excite exertion every where. They make the 
farmer ashamed of being so far inferior to his successful 
neighbour; they make him anxious to recede from the 
opposite extreme of poverty and meanness. If he finds 
that a man in the same county can raise sixty bushels 
where he only gets ten, he resolves at least that he 
will have twenty. If he finds that one of his neigh- 
bours has reared an ox that weighs two thousand five 
hundred pounds, he will try to carry his from a thousand 



208 

to twelve or fifteen hundred. The extraordinary efforts 
that obtain the prizes, serve to show what is possible, 
and place in strong contrast the disadvantage of bad 
breeds and imperfect tillage. Every feeling of pride 
and interest is stimulated to make improvements, and 
amelioration is every where diffused. 

The competition which is thus produced, is perhaps 
no where more remarkable, or more beneficial, than in 
the improvement which it causes in all kinds of live 
stock. Poor cows, feeble oxen, sorry horses, lank 
lean hogs, coarse wooled, bad shaped sheep, consume as 
much food, and yield one-third or one quarter as much 
profit, as others of select improved breeds. A poor 
man, who keeps but a single cow, or a single pig, may 
partake of this improvement ; while, to the larger 
farmer, it is in itself sufficient to make all the difference 
between a productive and unproductive estate. Great 
attention has been paid in this department, by all the 
agricultural societies in England; and there is no coun- 
try that affords such striking and admirable proofs of 
what may be done by improving the breeds of animals. 
We are beginning to make a progress in this way; 
several fine animals, from the most improved European 
stocks, have been imported; and the profit of having the 
best kind of stock is getting to be universally under- 
stood. We were indeed far from being destitute of 
valuable stock, particularly in neat cattle and swine. 
The spirit of improvement leads to the selection of the 
finest among these, and to raising only those which have 
the requisite qualities for being productive. Aided 
by the imported animals, which come from the most 
perfect breeds in Europe, we may calculate, in a very 
few years, to exhibit generally the finest kinds of live 
stock. 



209 



It is the natural consequence of these societies to attract 
attention to agricultural pursuits ; this produces as much 
advantage as their specilic objects. It is not merely 
the local benefit that is produced by prizes, and cattle 
shows, by a superior piece of cultivation, or a better 
breed of animals; but it is the increased interest that is 
given to the occupation of faVming. This is particular^ 
ly valuable among us, where agriculture had been so 
much neglected, both as a source of profit or employ- 
ment. Commercial concerns, in all their branches, 
were the principal subjects of conversation; they brought 
men together, and became popular, not only from the 
expectation of greater gains, but because their interests 
were the chief objects of attention, and drew within 
their sphere all active minds. Agriculture was not upon 
a scale large enough to attract notice; — it was almost 
wholly carried on by people with small means ; for 
every man, as he obtained any property, embarked in 
trade or banking, and did not think of going beyond the 
simplest exertions in tillage. As there was no strong 
interest excited from the magnitude of the operations, 
so there was no pride to be gratified from successful ex- 
periment and superior management. An inferior grade 
in any of the professions, a subaltern connexion with 
trade, raised higher expectations, and obtained a pre- 
ference over the occupation of a farmer. The effect 
of these societies does much to counteract and remedy 
this evil; — in the first place, by showing that it is a 
science in which great skill may be discovered, and 
which will afford constant occupation to the mind ; and 
where the products are so prodigiously varied according 
to the management, that if it only gives a bare subsist- 
ence in most cases, it may, in others, make a greater re- 
18 



210 

turn than can be got on the average of ordinary times 
from capital employed in trade. In the next place, it draws 
attention, it creates sympathy, it flatters the love of dis- 
tinction, which is natural to all men, and which, when 
thus directed, is, to the public at large, as well as the in- 
dividual, a salutary vanity. Men who are sufficiently 
favoured by circumstances fo select their own course of 
employment, will be more apt to go into one when a 
fellow-feeling exists for it in the community, — when the 
expectation of profit is in some degree ennobled by a 
generous competition, which engages not onl}' the pub- 
lic sentiment, but promotes the public weal. When 
emulation is once turned to this kind of improvement, 
its effects are so obvious, they are so pleasing, from the 
manner in which they adorn and display the country, 
that the pursuit is a constant source of satisfaction. The 
growth of trees, the giving a neat appearance to fields, 
the reclaiming a rough, savage spot, the making the wil- 
derness to blossom, become at once the most alluring, 
and the most beneficent of all employments. 

A great advantage follows from having men of pro- 
perty scattered over the country, who take an interest 
in agricultural concerns. Such men are able to take 
the risk of doing things on a large scale, and if the true 
definition of economy, in this, as in every other case, 
be a wise expenditure, they set an example, which their 
neighbours can imitate on a smaller scale. Their ex- 
periments, if they are too costly to be immediately pro- 
fitable, still furnish hints to others, who may take the 
substantial part of them, and avoid the expense of what 
is ostentatious. The influence of such men, scattered 
over the country, in promoting refinement of manners, 
a wider range of intelligence, and larger views of po- 



211 



licy, are of incalculable importance to the moral and 
political interests of society. This is most strikingly 
shown in England. The people who fill the higher 
ranks of the fashionable world, in that country, only 
live in tovvn for a short season ; — the rest of the year 
they are dispersed over every part of the island. Their 
example and their influence is to be found in every dis- 
trict. They contribute to elevate and enlighten the 
whole population of the country. The middling classes 
are prevented from nourishing boorish and coarse dis- 
positions and pleasures, as was the case with many of 
the wealthy farmers two or three generations back; 
and they themselves are saved from the degradation of 
becoming mere profligate courtiers, or narrow-minded 
cits. On the continent, the contrary course was too 
prevalent; it was the policy of the courts to prevent all 
the men who were powerful, from rank or property, 
from exercising a local influence in the provinces, by 
making them the slaves and dependents of court in- 
fluence, and intoxicating them with the pleasures of the 
capital. They retained them constantly near the sove- 
reign, till they held a residence, in the country as a 
painful exile, which, indeed, it was so considered, and 
used as a punishment. In a conversation, one day, 
with a distinguished individual, of high rank in the Rus- 
sian service, and who was familiar with every part of 
the European continent, — he attributed almost the 
whole strength and energy of the English nation to the 
circumstance of the great proprietors residing so much 
in the country; and the opposite state of things in this 
respect, in many other countries, he considered a radi- 
cal vice and weakness in their system. 



212 

To return from this digression : — the more we can 
find men of leisure and property devoting some of their 
attention to landed estates, and passing a part of the 
year in the country, enjoying its pleasures, diffusing in- 
telligence and improvement in every district, the more 
vpe shall find the solid prosperity, and, above all, the mo- 
ral character of the people advanced. Let us hope, 
then, that every individual, who has made his fortune in 
the city, may have a taste to spend a portion of it in the 
country. No pursuit is more useful than tilling the 
earth; none nobler, none more pleasing. But this topic 
has been often embellished; — let me, then, con- 
clude with the well-known expressions of that illustrious 
Roman orator, who was too sound a patriot not to 
give some of his time to agriculture: — Omnium re- 
rum aliquid exquiritur, nihil est agricultura melius, nihil 
nberius, nihil dulcius, tiihil homine libero dignius. 



LETTER X. 

Manufactures. 

My dear Friend, 

The subject of manufactures has been fruitful of 
discussion- in all its branches; from the previous 
question of policy, down to the matter of fact one of 
practicability. There are some folks even who are 
still doubtful on the first point, though it seemed to be 



213 



settled by the clear, elaborate report of Hamilton, when 
Secretary of the Treasury; but this must always be 
so; if there are some men who advance too far before 
their cotemporaries to be of much use, like the twilight 
that precedes the splendour of day, there are others who 
always lag behind the progress of society, like the 
twilight that is soon extinguished in darkness. Some 
would deny all encouragement, even that of good-will 
and cheering approbation for successful efforts; while 
others clamour for exclusive privileges, prohibitions, 
bounties, and a whole system of hot-house forcing, 
that can never produce a vigorous, permanent growth. 
While these debates are going on, while patriotism 
and avarice are altei-nately appealed to with every 
argument that can affect either; while some still deny 
that we can ever carry them on with advantage, and 
others assert that we can never be independent without 
them; manuAicturers themselves, in spite of their foes, 
and in some cases of their friends, are every where 
selecting the most suitable locations, forming per- 
manent establishments, and furnishing the disputants 
themselves with much of the clothing that protects 
them. 

There are several parts of the United States where 
certain branches of manufactures are permanently 
fixed, without including those household productions 
which are made to a great extent in every state in the 
Union. It is my purpose only, in answer to your in- 
quiries, to tell you what has been done in the eastern 
division; to say something of the advantages it possesses 
for the prosecution of manufactures, and to remark 
upon some of the objections that have been urged 
against them, lu doing tbi.-i, I do not intend to furnish 
18* 



214 



you with details, to tell you the number of spindles 
or of trip hammers that we have in motion. I have not 
the facts necessary for the purpose, and I am not making 
statistical tables, but attempting only a general outline 
of our capabilities in this way. 

We have furnished many proofs of the liability of 
a theoretical mode of proceeding to make false calcula- 
tions, and how frequently a successful practice will 
run counter to the most plausible reasonings of theory. 
Associations to introduce any particular branch of manu- 
facture rarely succeed; numerous instances may be 
cited of their failures. Two, among others in Boston, 
may serve as examples of the rest. The first was an 
attempt to introduce the manufacture of linen; Irish 
spinners and weavers were to be employed; a large, 
substantial building was erected; but after all the ex- 
pense, it languished for only a short period before its 
extinction. Another was a manufactory of sail-cloth. The 
reasoning here was excellent; it was said that we could 
produce the hemp which would assist our agriculture; 
that the great quantity of shipping we employed in the 
fisheries, in the foreign and coasting trade, would always 
secure a certain demand, and that the fabric was of so 
coarse a description, that little skill would be required, 
and it might at once be brought to perfection. The 
duck was made, and the usual certificates were given, 
after a fair trial, that by virtue of the kind of oil which 
was used in the weaving, it was less liable to mildew, and, 
in short, that it was decidedly superior to the European 
sail-cloth. Yet the manufactory soon fell through. At 
this very time, though we could not carry on a manufac- 
ture of this coarse material, ver}'^ considerable quantities 
of thread-lace were made in the county of Essex, and 



215 



it continued to be woven till the modern patent lace 
dl'ove it out of the market. So it was, contrary to 
obvious theory, though we could not make cloth for 
the fisherman's sails, we did produce the lace-edging 
for his wife's cap. The manufactory of glass was in- 
troduced in the same way, and would probably have 
failed in turn, if the association had not been given up, 
and a few only of the proprietors joined with the 
principal workmen in carrying it on. 

These associations, which, owing in part to the great 
facility of obtaining legislative acts of incorporation, 
have been remarkably multiplied of late years, make 
a considerable display of introducing manufactures; 
but it may be doubted, on the whole, whether they are 
productive of gain to the community. The stock- 
holders commonly lose, but the people employed obtain 
their wages; the farmer profits by getting a greater de- 
mand for his produce, and some knowledge of manu- 
facturing is obtained by the workmen, which furnishes 
them another resource for a livelihood. Against these 
are to be placed the loss of the proprietors, and still 
more, the discouragement which is produced by un- 
successful attempts. 

It might be wise policy in legislatures, in passing acts 
of incorporation, to imitate the English princijtle in 
regard to private banking, where to ensure care and 
responsibility in the transaction of their affairs, but a 
limited number of persons, five or six, are allowed to 
associate together ; the consequepce is, that each one 
puts in so much capital; that it becomes the main object 
of his attention, and his ruin would follow his personal 
negligence, or misconduct would lead him to his ruin. 
This principle may perhaps take place in our banking 



216 



system, in the course of time; but a modification of it 
might do good in our manufacturing establishments. 
The number of persons might be limited expressly, or 
effectively, by making the value of each share much 
gi'eater than it now is. Manufactures are never ex- 
posed, when properly conducted, to the vs^ide chances 
of commerce; they can never expect its extravagant 
gains, or its sudden losses. Their gain is moderate, but 
certain. The greatest attention to all its details, the 
closest economy, the constant personal watchfulness of 
the proprietor, are necessary to their success. Now, in 
one of these numerous associations, where each pro- 
prietor holds only a few hundred dollars in the stock, 
and vvher* the managers derive their emolument chiefly 
from the wages for superintendence, it is almost im- 
possible that the establishment should be carried on 
profitably, except during some period of temporary 
interruption in foreign competition. The state at large 
should interpose its guardianship for the community, in 
cases where the motive is not sufficiently strong to 
expect a prudent watchfulness from the individual. 
A sudden excitement may produce a mania in the 
public mind for any paiticular pursuit, — an act of in- 
corporation is asked for, and obtained of course, — 
eiich individual adventures only a moderate sum, and 
considering it a kind of lottery, feels little solicitude 
about the event; but the aggregate of property involved 
is very important, and the loss is a serious injury to the 
state. The government might then exercise a kind of 
negative prohibition, and by requiring a larger stake 
from the adventurers, secure them and the public 
against a rash undertaking or improvident management. 
The truth of some of these remarks is very strongly 



M 



217 



supported by the cotton manufactory at Waltham, near 
Boston; one of the largest and best managed in the 
United States. This was begun at a period when 
manufactures were depressed, and many of the estab- 
lishments were discontinued. One in the immediate 
vicinity, of considerable extent, had ceased working. 
Under these discouraging appearances, this manufactory 
was set on foot by five or six gentlemen, who had a suffi- 
cient capital to meet the delays attendant upon an 
incipient establishment, and in both their purchases and 
sales, to take advantage of the market. They had a 
large stake in the undertaking, and every thing was done 
with precaution and solidity. They first secured a 
water power, which gave them an ample, certain supply 
at all seasons. They then erected large substantial 
buildings. Having procured the best mechanics, they 
began by degrees to put up their machinery, making it 
certain, by experiment, that they were of the best and 
most improved kind. Theirmachinery is, consequently, 
superior to any other in the United States, and is not 
surpassed by the most perfect in England. They now 
consume about 400,000 pounds of cotton annually, and 
keep nearly 200 looms, moved by water, in constant 
operation. This manufactory is a very interesting one, 
because it proves decisively, that, with sufficient capital 
and proper management, the manufacture of cotton 
may be carried on with advantage. 

The cotton manufactories are numerous; they are 
scattered over every part of these states — many of 
them small, with only four or five hundred spindles, and 
from that number up to ten or fifteen thousand; these are, 
in almost every instance, the property of incorporated 
companies ; most of them were hastily erected, and 



218 



their machinery is not very good. The aggregate o^ 
their produce is very considerable, though very few of 
them continue in full steady operation. Their capital 
is commonly too limited to enable them to transact their 
business advantageously. They are often obliged to 
make forced sales of their goods, and a rise in the price 
of the raw material consumes all their profits, and 
forces them to suspend their vi^ork; of course, they can- 
not be expected to make any great improvement, while 
liable to such interruptions. S^ill, however, this branch 
of manufactures for the production of coarse kinds of 
goods, may be considered as permanently established 
here. 

The manufactures of iron, both wrought and cast, 
are largely extended in this quarter. Some iron is 
from the ore, but by far the l-irgest quantity that is 
consumed is imported from Russia, Sweden, and Eng- 
land. The chief articles of cast iron are made here 
to the exclusion of foreign ones. Many of the coarser 
articles of wrought iron are also made in large quanti- 
ties, such as nails, shovels, edge tools, &.c. We have, 
by necessity, been obliged to manufacture machinery, 
since it was not allowed to be exported from England. 
We have many excellent workmen in this line, and 
the most delicate and difficult machinery is made in 
perfection, from a stocking loom, or a card machinery, 
up to a steam-engine; of these last we have two or three 
manufactories; and these invaluable machines are now 
getting more and more into use. 

The manufactures of leather are all extensively 
established, and many of them brought to a high degree 
of perfection. In the preparation of skins, we have 
not yet produced the finest kinds of Morocco or Russia 



219 



leather, but we are daily making a progress tovvarda 
doing so. In some of the manufactures of which leather 
is the principal material, our produce for a long period 
has been very considerable; others have been more 
recently introduced, but all of them may vie with any 
foreign^productions. Boots and shoes, trunks, saddlery, 
and book-binding, furnish a large amount in our exports 
to the rest of the Union. Every article of any import- 
ance made from skins, except gloves, may be con- 
sidered as one of our permanent manufactures. To 
these may be added hats, both from wool and fur, of 
which large quantities are made, though we still import 
many of the finer description from Europe. 

Our woollen manulactures may still be considered in 
their infancy, though their produce is very considerable. 
Of the coarser kind of woollens, a very considerable 
proportion of what is worn in the country is home 
made. The quantity has been increased by the saving 
of labour from the establishment of carding macliines, 
which are every where to be found. Several respec- 
table manufactories, for the production of the finer 
kinds of cloths and cassimeres, have been got up within 
a {evr years, and some of the specimens they have 
shown will bear a comparison with almost any produc- 
tions of the European looms. These manufactories 
are gradually increasing, and we may look forvvard to no 
very distant period when they will more than supply 
our own wants. Their success is connected with the 
"improvement of our breeds of sheep; this has commenced 
with the introduction of the Spanish breeds : but there are 
some other races that are greatly wanted, and which will 
no doubt be had, ere long, in spite of foreign prohibition. 

Besides these principal branches of manufactures, 
there are many others in extensive operation. Among 



220 



these, glass may be cited as having been so early 
brought to rival the most beautiful articles of English 
ware. There are glass manufactories in different 
places; those in Boston are the principal ones; the 
finest and most difficult kinds of cut glass can now be 
procured at them. Manufactures of all kinds of cabinet 
work, of musical instruments, of tin-ware, &.c. &c. are 
to be found in different places, and some in every village. 
There is no considerable branch of manufactures 
which has not some establishment here, excepting silk. 
The climate is favourable to the mulberry-tree', and no 
doubt silk will be produced hereafter. Samples indeed 
liave been shown in different places; but they are 
as yet too inconsiderable to be numbered among our 
fabrics. 

It seems, then, that there can be no doubt of the 
practicability of our becoming manufacturers, and the 
expediency is I presume growing daily more evident. 
With the fullest Ijelief, however, of the utility and 
necessity of manufactures, 1 am not anxious for the 
growth of large manufacturing towns, and that kind 
of population that exists in them in Europe; and 
though it will naturally come in the course of things, 
no wise or benevolent man would wish to advance it. 
Our manufacturing population is now blended with that 
of agriculture; the labourers in the former are drawn 
from the latter, and frequently return to it for a time. 
This preserves their health and energy; and in this 
way we may go on to a great increase of manufactures, 
till we are able to supply as much as we consume, 
though we may always find it convenient to import 
some articles. But to have large manufacturing cities, 
swarming with labourers, who are mere spinning mules 



221 



and jennies — who are reduced by competitors to the 
minimum of subsistence, and even this rendered pre- 
carious by the change of fashion or foreign prohibi- 
tion; — such a state of things I do not wish to see existing, 
while there is any land left to give our population the 
means of subsistence. Indeed, there is no fear that it 
will happen for many generations to come. 

Let me point out to your notice one or two of the 
advantages we possess for the establishment of manu- 
factures. Those who fear competition abroad, have 
commonly solaced themselves with the belief that we 
never could carry on manufactures extensively, because 
labour was too high; and the same idea has been held 
up here, by those who have considered the question 
superficially, or with adverse prejudices. Now, it is 
remarkable, that in all those branches of manufactures, 
and they are numerous, in which foreign production? 
have been altogether superseded, except in a few cases 
of luxury or fashionable caprice — it is labour, and 
labour of the dearest kind, that is almost exclusively 
employed. For instance, boots, shoes, hats, saddlery, 
kc. kc; — in these, and many other articles, machinery 
cannot be used, and the work is almost wholly perform- 
ed by men. It is not the price of labour, but the want 
of capital, that prevents our competition. We manu- 
facture for ourselves much the greater part of what we 
consume, excepting those fabrics which are principally 
made by machinery. The labour of men is dearer than 
it is in England, but the labour of women and children 
bears nearly the same price in both countries ; and in 
the great manufactories of cotton, and many others, the 
number of men who are employed is comparatively 

small. Whenever persons of capital shall choose tn 

19 



222 



employ it in manufactures, and give "their personal atteO' 
lion to their concerns, it will be found that the price of 
labour will be no impediment. 

There is also a preference given by our people to 
employment in a manufactory, over domestic service, 
which grows out of their character and habits. This is 
not the case in Europe; — it gives a considerable facility 
to the establishments of manufactures, and will continue 
so long as they are well managed. The labour is not 
so perpetual as to prevent children from receiving in- 
struction ; and they being conducted with order and 
decency, the daughters of respectable farmers often 
pass three or four years in them, where they accumulate 
a little sum from their wages, and avoid, what they 
consider a degradation, becoming household servants. A 
well regulated manufactory, situated in the country, 
may be made subservient to the promotion o{ good prin- 
ciples and good habits in those employed in it; while in 
large towns, and with a straining competition incessant- 
ly exerted, the labour is too continuous to admit of any 
instruction or any relaxation. Health and morals are both 
disregarded, and too frequently destroyed altogether. 

The want of coal will prevent our making use of 
steam engines of large dimensions, until it shall be 
discovered, which it probably will be at no remote 
period, between the Connecticut and the Hudson, if 
not in other parts of this district. In the mean time we 
have innumerable mill-seats, whose water power is 
perpetual. They are of course generally scattered, 
and will not admit of many establishments in one spot; 
but there are exceptions in some falls of water, which 
furnish an almost unlimited power. These waterfalls 
are one of the remarkable features of the Atlantic 



223 



states generally, but particularly so of the eastern divi- 
sion. They furnish an invaluable facility to manufac- 
tures, which is some compensation for the evil they 
cause in the interruption of navigation. Some of the 
most considerable of these mill-seats are directly upon 
the tide water, so that they have all the advantages of 
being contiguous to navigation. 

A great fiicility of communication, from good roads or 
navigable rivers, is an important benefit to our manufac- 
tures. They are no where at any great distance from a 
market, either for local consmnplion or for exportation. 
The extensive and hourly increasing market that is 
afforded within the limits of the United States, where 
no duty or restriction can be laid upon them, is an 
advantage, a very powerful one, which thoy partake in 
common with the rest of the Union. The raw material 
of the most important production is obtained within 
the United States; — the materials of others, wool, iron. 
flax, Sac. are produced in considerable quantities, and 
may hereafter be made adequate to a full supply. 

The present produce of our manufactures is of the 
most useful kind, and the best calculated for securing 
them a preference with the consumer. They are prin- 
cipally the coarse kinds of goods, and are much more 
substantial than European or India merchandise of the 
same prices. They have, therefore, obtained a charac- 
ter in this respect, which makes them always in demand. 
The public gain too, in a general way, since these do- 
mestic productions are so much more durable. This 
substantial quality they can, in most articles, always 
maintain; — in cotton stuffs, for instance, since the raw 
material comes to them so much cheaper, that in those 

oths where the quantity of the material employed 



J2i 



forms a great part of the price, the foreign manuiac- 
turer, who is obliged to purchase it at a much higher 
rate, must make his fabrics slighter, and thus very in- 
ferior in quality, — trying to obtain a sale by a superior 
finish and appearance. Our fabrics commence with 
acquiring a reputation for durability ; they will gradual- 
ly add that of variety and elegance. 

There are no people more ingenious in the use and 
invention of machinery, no country more prolific in pa- 
tents, than the one under consideration. Good mecha- 
nics are to be found in every one of the mechanic arts, 
and the improvements they have made in some old, and 
the invention of many new instruments, are strong proofs 
of their skill and enterprise. These are not shown 
merely in the common tools in use in various trades, but 
in the most complicated and useful machines. Such, 
for instance, are the card and nail machines, which are 
so extensively used in the United States. These are 
entirely of their own invention. They have also im- 
proved the machines used in Europe, in the process of 
spinning and weaving; — though the machinery was con- 
sidered almost perfect there, they have made many 
ameliorations. In this department, also, we have an 
advantage over the Eui'opean manufacturer ; — no resist- 
ance is made here to the introduction of any machine- 
ry ; every kind of labour-saving machine is eagerly 
sought after, and new ones are constantly coming into 
use. In Europe, the manufacturer is often limited iu 
this respect ; he is often afraid to make use of machine' 
ry that would be of essential service to him. Machinery 
that is used in one country, sometimes cannot be 
brought into another, without producing a riot among 
the workmen. Within a few years t])e most serious 



225 



mischief, alarming and long continued disturbances, have 
arisen from this source. Our manufacturers have no 
fears of this kind to encounter. 

With these advantages, to which may be added a 
healthy climate, a numerous, active, free population, 
ne are certainly capable of becoming an important ma- 
nufacturing district. Nothing is wanting but capital, 
largely engaged, and personally attended to, for the 
immediate extension of manufactures. I have no doubt 
that this will all come in due time : no one can wish to 
see it forced prematurely, who is governed by sound 
and enlightened views. Individual enterprise is less 
thwarted in this country than in any other, by the in- 
terference of government, either in the shape of pro- 
hibition or bounties. An intelligent, industrious people 
are left to pursue what they find most advantageous, and 
the aggregate of individual, forms the noble mass of na 
tional prosperity that we enjoy. 



LETTER XL 

Remarks on certain points of Administration in different 
States. 

You know, my dear Sir, that in regard to a late 
Envoy from a foreign court, it was cited, as a convincing 
proof of the amiable, not to say skilful, policy of this 
gentleman and his wife, soon after their arrival, that they 
were resolved to be popular; — they were pleased with 
everything, ^^cventhe road from Baltimore to Washington,^' 

19* 



226 

1 am happy to acknowledge that a " bad pre-eminence" 
is taken from the road in question; but I beUeve it still 
remains with some others in its vicinity. Now, it was, 
you know, after a winter's excursion over these perilous 
roads, which are most powerfully described in Milton's 
narration of Satan's passage through chaos, and which 
makes a journey over them more dangerous and pain- 
ful than a voyage across the Atlantic, that "all smarting 
with my wounds," I discovered some petulance at the 
injustice with which we in the east were treated, and 
the total disregard or oblivion of the peculiar burdens 
to which we subjected ourselves for the common 
advantage. I promised you, when my irritation had 
subsided and my bruises were gone, that I would make 
some remarks on our relative contribution to the public 
good, without intending to make any invidious com- 
parisons, or to vaunt our own merits, which, after all, 
are owing to those wise views that were designated by 
our ancestors in their earliest regulations. 

This subject involves a consideration of the process 
for the management of public affairs in the eastern 
states, and will show how this differs from the mode of 
administration in other parts of the Union. I have no 
intention of going into the whole of this; it would re- 
quire an epistle of tedious minuteness. The plans of 
the different commonwealths in our national system are 
governed by the same general laws, and gravitate to the 
same centre ; and though there is almost as much difference 
in the size of these bodies as there is in the planets of 
our system,yet they all revolve in symmetry and harmony. 
There is some differences in their mode of action, though 
there is a great similarity in the result. 

The states of New-York, Pennsylvania. Virginia, and 



227 



some others, have raised large funds and carried on ex- 
tensive schemes of internal improvement, which prove 
their administrations to be directed by a far-sighted, 
enlightened policy, the advantages of which will be more 
and more developed. There is an air of grandeur in 
these extensive plans of utility, that does honour to 
the states which adopt them ; and many great objects 
of general advantage are thus attained, that would 
never be undertaken by individuals, it must be borne 
in mind, however, that almost all improvements in these 
states are made from the state funds, or by chartered 
companies, who receive a toll in remuneration : and 
though great objects are effected by clearing rivers 
of obstructions, by making roads and canals, yet these 
do not come in every man's way, and the traveller is 
much oftener impeded there than in this section, where 
he tinds good roads in every direction. 

Some explanation of this sort is necessary, to prevent 
the eastern states from being considered inferior in 
public spirit, or liberal policy, to their neighbours. It 
will be found, on examination, that the taxes annually 
raised in these states, for three objects, education, roads, 
and militia — in which the whole nation have an indi- 
rect concern that each state should do its duty — are 
more in proportion than are paid in any other stale in 
the Union. It is precisely on these subjects that we 
may claim the praise for our citizens at large, of being 
directed by enlightened, public-spirited feelings. The 
manner in which this is done precludes any ostentatious 
reports, but the real purposes of such expenses are 
very well answered. The militia is an organized sys- 
tem, of which some display is made, because it is connect- 
'd with the government, as the governor is commander in 



228 

chief — but the affairs of schools and roads are not mau- 
aged by the state administration. They depend on each 
separate town, vvhicli levies and appropriates, at its own 
direction, the sums raised within itself. There is one 
exception only to this; in Connecticut there is a school 
fund, from which each town receives a certain income an- 
nually to pay for its schools; by which means the inhabi- 
tants are exempt from all expense on this account,though 
every child in the state has the opportunity of common 
school education. 

The laws require that ever)' town should support 
schools, and also keep in good repair the roads within 
its limits; and for failure in either of these duties, the 
legal remedies are of course provided. These roads 
are constantly improving, and, except in very new dis- 
tricts, may be generally considered very good. Besides 
these public roads, there are turnpikes in every direction; 
over these the United States carry their mail, and trans- 
port military stores, and thus derive a direct advantage 
from them; and a citizen of another state derives the 
same facility as the inhabitants. The people of Maryland 
are as able to pay for the expense of good roads as the 
people of Connecticut; yet in the former state they 
are almost impassable, and in the latter are every where 
in good condition. One state has then a right to claim 
some merit for the service it renders to the public in 
this way, and which is grossly neglected by another. 

I have no data to form an accurate estimate of the 
sums annually raised for this purpose. There is no 
provision for making any returns, and I have never seen 
any statistical account of them, though, in truth, they 
are so important in the political economy of the state, 
that an annual statement of them, which might be made 



229 



with very little trouble, should be presented to the legis- 
lature. Every town agrees, by an annual vote, to lay 
out a sum upon the highways, and this is afterwards as- 
sessed upon the inhabitants, and expended under the di- 
rection of surveyors, chosen for the purpose. A good 
deal depends on the judgment and fidelity of these sur- 
veyors, in seeing that the work is not slighted. The 
tax is expected to be paid by labour, and is almost al- 
ways discharged in this way; — but if inconvenient to 
the individual, he may pay it in money. I believe I am 
within bounds, in estimating the highway taxes, annually 
Faised in the eastern states, at 200,000 dollars. Besides 
this annual demand, the turnpikes ought also to be con- 
sidered in this expenditure. More than two millions of 
dollars have been employed, within a few years, by in- 
corporated companies, in constructing bridges and roads. 
The former are generally a lucrative stock ; but of the 
latter, there are very few that pay simple interest for the 
capital. These roads, however, were, in many in- 
stances, subscribed to by the greater part of the stock- 
holders, rather with a view to public improvement, 
than from any sanguine expectations of income from the 
stock. Another million of dollars may be placed to the 
item of canals, which, though in almost all cases an im- 
proving property, give at present but a small per cent- 
age on the stock. 

In the department of education there is also an annual 
tax, voted by each town, for their public schools. This 
is apportioned, if the township is extensive, in the most 
convenient manner, under the direction of the select- 
men. It sometimes happens, where the population is 
scattered, that some of the children have to go one or 
two miles to school; and traversing this distance through 



230 

the snow, in some of our winter mornings, makes 
them hardy, at least, if they do not become learned. All 
the children go to school at least a part of the year. 
The value of common education is extensively felt, and 
great exertions are made to obtain it. In passing 
tlirough a woody district, not long since, where there 
were very few inhabitants, the stage driver, in pointing 
to two solitary, mean looking dwellings, told me that, 
in the winter before, the two families which inhabited 
them, being four or live miles from any school, had 
hired a sc?ioolmaster to reside with them two months, " 
and that they furnished him seventeen scholars between' 
them, and of different colours too, for one of these fa- 
milies was black. 1 should say, (or to make, in this case, 
a legitimate use of a favourite term, I should guess,) that 
the sum expended for this purpose, raised by voluntary, 
annual taxation, amounted to 300,000 dollars. Besides 
this, there is an expenditure in a great number of pri- 
vate schools, academies, colleges, kc. which would 
more than double the amount. 

In the department of the militia, all the service is per- 
formed that is required by law; and 1 presume there is 
no state in the Union which can compare with any one 
of the eastern states in their fulfilment of militia duties. 
On this point I will take the state of Massachusetts for 
some particulars, ^vhich will enable you to form an opi- 
nion, and I believe that the other states in this political 
division are nearly, or quite as effective. The militia 
in this state exceeds 80,000 men; — these are regularly 
organized in companies, battalions, brigades, and divi- 
sions. The staff is all complete. The state gives no 
pay, except to a quartermaster, and adjiM ant-generals 
and their clerks, who, having permanent duties to per 



231 



Jbrm, have regular salaries. It aliso pays for the ex- 
penses of courts martial, for powder to the artillery, and 
furnishes instruments of military music, and all the 
materiel of the artillery, except side-arms. There are 
ninety pieces of brass field artillery in the charge of the 
different companies. The whole body is trained at least 
four days in the year; three times by companies, and 
once by regiments, or brigades. The officers, of all 
grades, are in complete uniform, — so also are the artil- 
lery, cavalry, riflemen, and most of the light infantry 
companies. The whole are completely armed, and 
every man between eighteen and forty-five, except ma- 
gistrates, clergymen, physicians, and members of the 
legislature, are held to perform this service, — and all 
fines, for any failure, are rigidly exacted. The ex- 
penses of this branch, including the service of the pri- 
vates, uniform of officers, and volunteer companies, and 
the sums paid out of the ?tate treasury, I think cannot be 
estimated at less than half a million of dollars annuallyj 
and supposing the others to pay only as much more, 
the militia costs the eastern states one million of dollars 
yearly.* 

Tbus, from these three sources, it will be seen that a 
very constant and considerable contribution id made to 
the public weal ; and for performing our duty effectu- 
ally, in this way, as we not only act for ourselves, but 
contribute to the national strength and character, we 
ask for some consideration from other states, and espe- 



* It' the utility of the militia, in war-time, against a foreign foe, 
were only consiilered, this expense might be thought excessive ; 
but the real olijpct of a miliiia is domestic; it is to prevent the 
small regular army, which we cannot do witliout, from becoming 
too large, and destructive to our freedom. 



232 



cially from those who, by neglecting these duties, 
exonerate themselves from their burdens. I think they 
are unwise in doing so, and that they are, eventually, the 
sufferers. No man would wish to diminish these contri- 
butions, or to enlarge them much; the latter could not be 
done without making them o^^^pressive. As it is, it maj' 
be stated in the way of generalizing, that, for the support 
of the mililia, highways, and common school education, 
every able-bodied man contributes eight days of annual 
labour ; — this proves a degree of public spirit that is 
highly honourable to the citizens. 

It will be observed, that the greater part of these con- 
tributions are voluntarily imposed from year to year, 
and that the power of laying these taxes is not dele- 
gated to the state, but is reserved to each town, which 
raises the money, and appropriates it at its own discre- 
tion. This is doubtless effected in a way more conve- 
nient to the inhabitants, than if it were a subject of gene- 
ral administration. Indeed, it is highly characteristic of 
the deep-laid republican feeling, which is the foundation 
of all our institutions. Every thing is delegated, — but 
nothing is delegated further, or longer, than is absolute- 
ly necessary. The government is intrusted with no 
jurisdiction, and no finances, except for such general 
purposes as cannot well be avoided. This keeps up 
a general attention to public concerns, — a habit, in a 
limited way, of providing for the public service, and, 
consequently, a considerable degree of public feeling 
and watchfulness. The general convenience is, no 
doubt, better served in this way, though it narrows the 
operations of administration. The people are in the 
habit of taxing themselves for the public good, and they 
do it more willingly, when they have the immediate 



233 



control and distribution of the money, which they 
probably dispose of more advantageously and economi- 
cally, than it would be expended if placed in distant 
hands. 

Still, it must not be concealed, that this system has 
some disadvantages, and that the views of administration 
in the eastern states are, in comparison with some 
others, as diminutive as their system of finance. The 
state of New-York has undertaken a canal, which would 
have been considered a magnificent enterprise by the 
proudest monarchy in Europe. Pennsylvania has laid 
out great sums in roads and canals. Virginia is proceed- 
ing in a systematic course of public improvement, 
worthy of an enlightened and powerful state. Others 
are following these examples, and will reap the benefit 
of them. In these states, large funds have been wisely 
accumulated for the general purposes of public improve- 
ment ; and where this was wanting, bold and sagacious 
statesmen laid taxes to effect the purpose, and made 
even taxation popular, when it was for such objects. In 
this section, the citizens have done their duty within 
their own limits; but no wide scope of policy has ever 
been shown by the governments-. Not one of these 
states, in a career of unexampled prosperity for a whole 
generation, has done any thing to accumulate funds for 
public improvement, with the exception of the state of 
Connecticut. The exception is, indeed, a noble one; — 
she has accumulated a fund that now pays for all the 
schools in the state. Massachusetts had great means in 
her power, but they have been chiefly frittered away, 
though enough still remains to do something, which shall 
be of permanent advantage to the commonwealth. The 
other states had no lands that were public property; — 

•20 



234 

)»ut a small per centage on the taxation, annually set. 
apart, would have accumulated a fund for the next ge- 
neration, with no inconvenience to the present. 

But there is nothing in the character of our state ad- 
ministrations that can lead to the adoption of such a 
policy. The governors are commonly selected at a pe- 
riod of life when they are not expected to originate any 
thing new. The salaries attached to state offices are 
not sufficient to command the services of very active 
talents ; and the influential' members of the legislature 
too often derive their influence from being the oppo- 
nents of any more extensive systems. Men who advo- 
cate wider views, are looked upon with wonder or sus- 
picion, and are sure to become unpopular; — they, there- 
fore, must either sacrifice these views, or by pursuing 
them, lose the station that would be necessary to carry 
them into execution. Cunning men, in the mean time, 
prosper; — they subserve the purposes of a subaltern 
ambition, by an eternal " booing"" to narrow minds, and 
narrow prejudices; — every thing continues the same, in 
"this best of all possible worlds;" they keep the 
management of affairs within their own comprehension, 
and nothing is impaired but the honour and prosperity 
of the state. 

It is not necessary to raise very large sums, or to en- 
deavour to fill the treasury for indefinite purposes. 
There should be no funds accumulated, except for ap- 
propriation to some specific object. It would be dan- 
gerous to leave funds to any amount, without having 
them so pledged. The violence of party would be nou- 
rished by the hope of managing such funds, and would 
be apt rashly to appropriate them in a way to serve its 
purposes. We have seen instances, where funds lying 



235 



in the treasury, have been absurdly squandered by party 
violence, when, at the same time, it would never have 
dared to raise the same sums by taxation, as that would 
have thrown it out of power. But funds may be raised 
for education, for the construction of roads, bridges, and 
canals, and other specific purposes, — and the most posi- 
tive enactments should guard against their being applied 
to any other objects. 

There are, doubtless, many advantages arising from 
our thorough republican habit, of leaving the care of 
many interior concerns and local expenditures to be 
provided for by the citizens in their local districts. But, 
at the same time, there are many objects that can only 
be effected by the state governments, and the operation 
of our enlarged and liberal policy. Such are the pro- 
tection of the higher branches of education in our Uni- 
versities; the encouragement of agriculture and the 
arts, — and the construction of public edifices, roads, 
and canals. There are some objects of this descrip- 
tion that demand, imperiousl}', the patronage of the 
state, and which would be productive of extensive pub- 
lic advantage. Yet, the expense and the uncertainty 
of adequate returns, make it impossible for private as- 
sociations, founded on a view of profit, to undertake 
them. It is such objects which call loudly for a change 
of our policy, so far as to prepare for their future ac- 
complishment, by funds, under the control of the state. 
A revisal of our financial system would procure these 
means, witliout any perceptible burden on the communi- 
ty, and, by furnishing to tliese states the future power of 
performiitg great public works, add to the dignity of their 
governments, and promote the prosperity of their 
citizens. 



236 

LETTER XII. 

O71 the past, present, and future State of the Indians. 

3Iy DEAR Friend, 

The little Indian story you mentioaed to me, has 
turned my attention to the subject of the original Ame- 
ricans, to whom the events of the day have given a 
momentary accession of interest. There are few things 
connected with our history that have occasioned more 
declamation or more opposite statements. After a long 
and intimate knowledge of them, some have described 
the Indians as possessed of every virtue, while others 
degrade them below the rank of humanity, as destitute 
of every good quality, and practising all the vices 
that can come under the heads of dishonesty, perfidy, 
and ferocity. One swears that the object before him is 
black; the other maintains that it is white; while the 
bystander, who knows that the two sides of the shield 
are of different colours, will perceive that both are 
right from the position in which they have viewed it. 
In the mean time, the unfortunate race which is the 
subject of dispute, is mouldering away, and at no 
remote period will have no existence but in history. 

There is something very saddening in the reflection, 
that the original possessors of this magnificent country, 
whom we acknowledged for the lords of the soil, 
when we bought their birthright for a mess of pottage, 
should be inevitably destined to destruction It seems 
cruel that we should not give them the benefits of civi- 
lization, and share with them, at least, the land that was 
once exclusively their own. Theoretical philanthro* 



237 



pists have cried out against us, and practical ones have 
vainly endeavoured to avert the fate which seems mark- 
ed out for the Indians. Nation after nation disappears, 
and, in a few years, the last remnants of these numerous 
tribes will be driven, with the buffalo and the deer, to 
the recesses of the Rocky Mountains. Once in awhile 
a master spirit among them attempts, with vain struggles, 
to resist the destruction that is impending. In the truest 
spirit of patriotism he rouses his countrymen, but only 
leads them to their ruin, after scalping a few men, 
murdering a few women, and dashing out the brains of 
their children. Though he may be a good warrior, he 
proves but a false prophet in his predictions of success : 
he is cither cut down, like the prophet Tecumseh, or 
hung, like the prophet Francis, and the ruin of his tribe 
is consummated. 

It is reinarkable, how few of the natives are to be 
found in our population, and how rarely they blend with 
it. The discolourings from Indian are inrinitely fewer 
than those arising from negro mixture. The kw that 
remain are not so numerous as the gipsies in many 
parts of Europe, to which they may in many points be 
compared. Two or three, or sometimes a larger groupe, 
])erambulate the country, oilering medicinal herbs, 
or brooms for sale, almost the only article they manu- 
facture. They are a harmless set of beings, and lead 
a life of hardship, though not of labour.- I have srftne- 
tlmes thought, when I have seen some of these poor 
Indians, on the revolving turns of fate; that here were 
the descendants periuips of the Sachems, who once 
held the country, and made treaties with our ancestors, 
when they might have annihilated them, gaining a 

scanty livelihood from the charitable purchases of 

20* 



238 



their posterity. They preserve most of the traits of the 
Indian character, though imbedded in civiHzation, and 
knowing no other language than the Enghah. They 
are seldom seen to laugh, are prone to intoxication, yet 
obliged, from poverty, to have intervals of sobriety; 
and in traversing the country, while they commonly 
make use of our roads, they retain a knowledge of its 
natural topography, and are never afraid of being lost 
in a forest, as they always know their direction, and 
often traverse the country, as was the primitive prac- 
tice, from one stream to another, at the shortest carrying- 
place, and still are acquainted with all the rivers and 
ponds, and the most probable places for finding game. 

If, then, so many tribes and nations have disappeared, 
leaving no other than these miserable vestiges, so that 
they and their language have become extinct; if within 
the wide limits of the old United States, there hardly 
exist Indians enough to form one populous village, 
could this destruction have been prevented by the 
whites? — and has civilized man made use of his supe- 
riority over the savage, only to despoil him? Is the ex- 
istence of a barbarous and civilized nation in the same 
country compatible ? Is the red man of the American 
forests a species of the human genius, susceptible of 
civilization? It maybe of some assistance, in answering 
these questions, to consider what has been done towards 
^ civilizing the Indians; — 1 cannot go into the inquiry at 
large, but will only give you a sketch of what has been 
attempted in the state of Massachusetts, — this is not 
much, yet is probably more than has been done by any 
other. 

The first founders, either through fear, or some better 
motive, appeared to have wished to deal peaceably and 



239 



honestly with the natives. Though they came here with 
the European prejudices, and were in the habit of hearing 
the Pope and otlier sovereigns claim the property of 
the country, without any consideration for the natives 
who were in possession, yet they bought the land 
they occupied, and generally maintained their treaties 
with them. They would have followed a liberal 
course of policy, if it had not been for their peculiar 
religious fanaticism. Our forefathers were constantly 
likening themselves to the Israelites, the most cruel 
of all nations, as shown in their own annals : like them, 
they were invading a country that did not belong 
to them, whose inhabitants they considered hea- 
then, and therefore deserving of destruction. The 
hardships of their situation made them harsh in their 
sentiments, and the sternnest denunciations of the Old 
Testament were the passages most frequently in their 
mouths. The Indians were heathen, and on this 
account a feeling of scorn was engendered, that pre- 
vented any general sympathy for their condition. Hu- 
manity, however, was still telt in many upright, benevo- 
lent minds; and religion too guided some individuals to 
pursue the beneficent lessons of the New, rather than 
the exterminating injunctions of the Old Testament, in 
their treatment of the natives. Some good men were 
constantly endeavouring to ameliorate their condition; 
among whom the venerable Eliot is most conspicuous. 
His zeal, learning, and industry, enabled him to form a 
grammar of their languages, and to translate the Bible 
into it. He has been sometimes called the Indian 
Apostle; and his primitive simplicity, devotedness, and 
entire disinterestedness, gave him claims to the appella- 
tion. 



240 

If, however, there was any chance from the exertions 
of such missionaries as EUot, or such benevolent cha- 
racters in civil life, as Roger Williams, and some others, 
it was destroyed by the wars that were afterwards ex- 
cited. The premature destruction of the Indians was 
chiefly brought about by the rivalries of foreign nations, 
who made use of them, in the most profligate and re- 
morseless manner, to promote their own ambitious 
designs. The rivalries of the French and English 
occasioned the destruction of whole tribes, in the early 
ages of the colonies; as the same policy pursued by 
the latter of those nations, in their former and recent 
war with us, again produced the same effect. The 
most sanguinary wars in which the eastern Indians 
were engaged with the whites, were excited by the 
French in Canada. The forests which are impervious 
to the advance of a regular army, are the appropriate 
scene of operation for Indian warriors, — and a commu- 
nication between remote points is readily maintained 
by them. The six nations were the dogs of war, whom 
the English let slip upon the French at every opportu- 
nity ; while the -latter more than once stirred up all 
the tribes between the Penobscot and the Hudson, to 
carry on the most harassing hostilities against our 
settlements. The practices of Indian warfare are 
such as to rouse all the feelings of hatred and ven- 
geance, and the strongest detestation against their au- 
thors. All considerations of justice or magnanimity 
are lost sight of b}' those who have seen their women 
and children massacred; and though the war may not 
have been unprovoked, the manner in which it is 
carried on, stifles all the feelings of humanity, and the 
savages, if injured in the first instance, are, fromrhe mode 



241 



the}' take of revenging it, doomed without remorse to 
extermination. 

The mode of civiHzation pursued formerly, was not 
30 well understood as it has been since : the process 
was very imperfect. They began with the wrong end, 
and insisted on making that a precedent, which would 
have happened more easily as a consequence. It has 
been found much more successful in the end, to give 
the Indians a love of fixed residences and domestic com- 
forts; to induce them to exchange hunting for cultiva- 
tion, and with a change of habits, to give them that 
religious instruction that will harmonize with it. But 
our forefathers were staunch dogmatists; they thought 
abstruse points of faith the only sources of all salutary 
influence, and taught their Indian neophytes the assem- 
bly's catechism before they showed them how to spin. 
Societies were early formed in Europe and this country, 
for the propagation of the gospel among the Indians 
and others; and if it had not been for this little additional 
clause, the society must in time have been without an 
object. Few societies that have existed so long, have 
done less; they have employed some missionaries, who 
have struggled with more or less ability to keep alive a 
dwindling congregation. This was not from any defect 
of good intentions, but from the impracticability of 
the object, or want of energy, or some defects in their 
system. The Jesuits and the Moravians have been 
the most prosperous in their missionary labours, and 
they seem to be the only ones that have any hope of 
forming permanent congregations of a red colour. 

The state of Massachusetts has now four tribes within 
its limits, and under its protection. One of these duells 
on the Penobscot, where they own a considerable tract 



.k^ 



242 



of country. The state has hy law secured to itself the 
right of pre-emption, as the United States have done 
with all the Indian tribes, to prevent their being de- 
frauded by individuals. From time to time purchases 
are made, as the Indians waste away, and then an act is 
made relative to " the extinguishing the Indian title" in 
certain tracts, — which, in other words, might be said to 
be for extinguishing the Indians. The Penobscot tribe 
consist of about 400 souls; they retain their own lan- 
guage, and speak also a broken English. They dress 
with our kinds of garments, modified by Indian taste, 
retaining their fondness for ornaments; but as these are 
no longer of their own manufacture, from feathers and 
shells, which would retain something peculiar, but are 
formed from the most sorry materials we can furnish 
them, fragments of ribands and bits of tin, they have a 
miserable appearance. They are Roman Catholics 
after a manner, in which faith they were anciently in- 
structed by the Canadian Jesuits; — they are in the tad- 
pole state; the limbs of civilization p->rtly formed, and 
the tail of savage life not yet obliterated. Some of 
their chiefs are intelligent, and there are a few indi- 
viduals among them who have reminiscences of a prouder 
condition. They are, I believe, like all the others, 
gradually growing worse and dwindling. 

The three other tribes are on a different footing. 
Two of them are situated in the count}' of Plymouth, in 
the district which we call the " Old Colony," — and the 
third at Gay Head and Martha's Vineyard. The for- 
mer are known by the name of the Massapee, and 
Herriug-pond tribes, and the latter takes its name from 
the place of residence. This country, generally poor 
in point of soil, was once thickly peopled with Indians. 



243 

It was tlie location, of all others, best suited to them, 
abounding with small lakes, and clear brooks, all replete 
with trout and many other kinds of fish; — and in the 
spfing filled with astonishing quantities of herrings. In 
the districts, the forests contain deer and several kinds 
of game, besides a sea-coast possessing inexhaustible 
stores of shell-hsh, and the sea itself affording a certain 
supply of various kinds of the finest fish. The light 
sandy soil was perfectly adapted to their imperfect 
cultivation, and gave them a supply of corn and squash- 
es, — so that, with perennial stores of fish and game, 
even Indian improvidence was never felt in want of 
subsistence. Here let me remark to you, by the way, 
on the singular fact, that the oldest district in the coun- 
try should be almost the only one where the original 
tenants of the forest, biped and quadruped, — the Indian 
and the deer, — are still to be found; but how different is 
their condition ! — the latter bounds with as much grace 
and elasticity as did its precursors when our forefathers 
first landed, — but the former exhibits a sad degeneracy. 
How degraded are the descendants of Philip and Mas- 
sasoit I 

These tribes are in a state of perpetual pupilage. 
They cannot alienate their lands, or any part of their 
natural productions, of which firewood is the most im- 
portant. Each individual has a right to cultivate what 
piece of land he pleases, and this, as well as the hut he oc- 
cupies, are his, from a kind of right of occupancy, which 
is not clearly defined. They have guardians appointed 
by the state, against whom the Indians occasionally make 
complaints to the legislature — it may be presumed often 
unreasonably — and also missionaries sent them by the 
society for propagating the gospel. These tribes -.re 
a kind of perquisite to the state and this society, who 



244 



divide the care of them, and if you wish to observe 
a specimen of the most degraded and miserable popula- 
tion in the whole country, you must visit the protegees of 
these two bodies. It is now nearly two centuries since 
the experiment has been going on, and it furnishes a 
standing lesson of the luckless consequences of vesting 
in states, or societies, the guardianship of tribes of peo- 
ple. Far be it from me to accuse either of these 
bodies of misconduct or neglect; but either they have 
been guilty of both, or the civilization and improvement 
of Indians are hopeless attempts. The charge of these 
tribes seems entailed upon the stale, and serious objec- 
tions arise to their divesting themselves of it. Unless, 
therefore, a species of benevolent exertion and watchful 
attention should arise, we shall continue to furnish to 
posterity a perpetual example of the poor results that 
attend upon plans for Indian civilization.* 

There are no individiials now remaining in these 
tribes of pure Indian blood. 1 hey are all of a mixed 
breed, some crossed with the white, and some with the 
African races. The greater part of the men are em- 
ployed as sailors, particularly by the people of Nan- 
tucket and New-Bedford, in their whaling ships. Some 
of the females go into the neighbouring towns as ser- 
vants, returning home occasionally. Though they have 
lost the language and the virtues of their ancestors, and 
are only a mongrel mixture, they still retain some of their 
superstitions and customs. One of these the traveller 
will have occasion to notice. On the road between Ply- 
mouth and Sandwich, there are certain rocks by the 
way-side, where the road passes through an extensive 

• A very interesting account of Ihi-se Indians may be found in 
the volume of the Historical Society's papers. 



245 



piece ol' forest, that are always seen covered with 
chips and dry sticks. These are called the sacrifice 
rocks, and every person of these tribes, as he passes 
them, always lays a dry stick or piece of wood upon 
them. The origin of this practice is unknown. In 
one of these tribes, the most respectable individual is 
of half negro and half Indian blood; — and in another, 
a negro born in Africa, said to have been the son of a 
chieftain, and sold, when a boy, for a slave; — he is now 
advanced in life, as well as the other, and appeared to 
me, in a short conversation, a solid, sensible man. An im- 
portant and favourite article of food with all these 
people, are the various kinds of shell-fish, of which 
they are always certain of obtaining a supply. Living 
in a slothful, filthy manner, their miserable cabins are 
generally situated on the shores of two beautiful lakes, 
in the midst of very picturesque scenery, and in a coun- 
try which, from the abundance of different kinds of 
game, forms the delight of the sportsman. 

Besides these splendid efforts in patronising whole 
tribes, attempts have been occasionally made, from the 
first settlement of the country, to give individuals an 
education. The catalogue of Havard, Yale, and Dart- 
mouth colleges, shows one or two Indian graduates. 
Now and then an individual has been qualified for being 
a missionary, — but notwithstanding all these attempts, 
I do not at this moment recollect that one ci"i!ized 
Indian has ever discovered any kind of superiority; not 
a single family of them has been kept up in a tame 
state. There has never been even a scion in;5rafted on 
the wild stock, that has produced fruit of any value. 
The only example that I know of is in Vir!i;i:iia, where 

it is said some of the descendants of Pocahontas are 

21 



246 



proud of their descent from that interesting Indiafi 
princess. There are no families in this quarter that - 
have any Indian blood, avowedly, who have ever attain- 
ed to any distinctions ; though there are two or three 
who, from peculiarities of lineament or complexion, have 
given rise to vague and probably malicious conjec- 
tures. I do not wish the inference to be strong against 
the unfortunate aborigines. If our ancestors had mixed 
with them on terms of equality, some individual families 
might have permanently veined the white mass of popu- 
lation. There are one or two characters preserved in our 
histories that interest us in a degree, like Pocahontas. 
But the prejudice against the Indians, even when they 
were our equals in some things, and our superiors in 
power, prevented all intermarriages. They Avere 
treated with contempt, and of course with injustice. 

It would be too strong an inference to say, that the 
Indians do not possess talents capable of being devel- 
oped by cultivation; but it is certainly remarkable, that, 
in the course of two centuries, and with many oppor- 
tunities furnished them, not one should have become 
distinguished. In their wild state they have shown them- 
selves to be eminent as warriors, politicians, and orators. 
Massasoit and Philip, among our Indians, Garangula, 
Decanesora, Corn-planter, and Tecumseh, among the 
six nations, Tamanend, Logan, and many others, among 
theLennape, have left a reputation that will preserve 
their names in Indian history. The wars, the con* 
federacies and policy of different Indian nations, show ! 
marks of talent and deep views among their leaders. | 
This we can ascertain even from the imperfect know- 
ledge we have of them, derived through the medium of ? 
common interpreters; and it should be remembered, I 



247 



that these people have no written records, and do noi 
speak for themselves; that though they possessed 
poiverful minds among them, yet every generation had 
to do all its labour for itself. As there were no books, 
no science and learning could be stored up for pro- 
gressive improvement; and, save the feeble aids of con- 
fused tradition, each succession of men had to acquire 
every thing for themselves, as if they were the first 
race of mankind just sprung from "the earth, the common 
mother." The history of these people, long after 
they shall have become extinct, will be interesting to 
our posterity, and furnish subjects for poetry and ro- 
mance. They will be to us what the inhabitants of the 
earth were in the fabulous ages of Greece; a race of 
people gathered into tribes, before Ceres or Bacchus, 
Cadmus or Hercules, had visited the world to exter- 
minate monsters, and teach the means of cultivation 
and intellectual improvement. Too many facts will 
be preserved, and the contemporary records will be too 
clear to permit ihe same extravagance of allegory and 
fable; but a remote posterity Avill look back with won- 
der to this strange race of men, whose country their an- 
cestors usurped, and of whom there will be no other 
vestiges than what we now have of the mammoth. 

Is there any thing in this species of men that makes 
them wither, when transplanted from the shades of the 
forest to the open grounds of cultivation ? Are their cha- 
racters suited only to a wild state, and incapable of ar- 
tificial amelioration ? If reclaimed from savage life, 
could they distinguish themselves among the tame herds 
of policed states ? Would their warriors be capable of 
being more than corporals or a sergeants in our scientific 
discipline ? Would one of their prophets rise higher than 



248 



one of our fanatics in theology ? and would their orators 
dwindle into mere spouting demagogues ? I should not 
have much hesitation in answering these questions, if I 
thought we had fallen upon the average of Indian abili- 
ties in those we have attempted to educate. But it is 
generally the poorest and most inferior part of a tribe 
that becomes the subject of civilization. The most 
energetic spurn our habits, and if their own tribe is so 
humbled as to adopt them, fly off to some that still adhere 
. to the hunting state. There is a charm in savage life, 
that sometimes leads away the descendants of people 
■who have been civilized from time immemorial. How 
much more, then, may we expect apostacy in those who 
have been newly converted from it ? We have seen re- 
peated instances of Indians, who were taken when 
bo5'S, brought up among us, and enjoying the comforts 
of civilized life, renounce it after a series of years, and 
return once more to the forests. The most perfect 
convert is constantly in danger of a relapse, and a sud- 
den caprice may restore him at once to his first habits, 
like that metamorphosed lady, who resumed instantly 
her claws and her whiskers at the sight of a mouse. 

The only chance of saving any of this race, will be, 
by taking their children, at a very early age, and edu- 
cating them in our habits, wholly, and in a situation re- 
moved from the contagion of Indian pursuits. A very 
effectual way, too, would be the proposal that was made 
in an official report, to recommend marriages between 
them and the whites. This suggestion was treated with 
obloquy and ridicule by shallow minds, which had not 
meditated, or were incapable of estimating the subject. 
But unless we offer them the rights of citizens, on cer- 
tain conditions, we shall never, even in this way, obtaia 



249 

any but the meaner kinds. Savage as he is, the Indian 
can still see and feel all the relative positions of society, 
and unless we surmount our prejudices against com- 
plexion, and allow the red man the same advantages as 
the white, what inducement can we offer them to adopt 
our customs ? How can it be expected that a proud, in- 
telligent chief should renounce war and hunting, be- 
come a Christian and a cultivator, if he is to be treated 
with contempt, and deprived of all privileges, on ac- 
count of the colour of his skin ? The experiment of 
civilizing them cannot be said to be fairly made until 
you shall have imparted to them all your rights, when 
they have adopted all your habits. 

I would not assert that our governments have been 
always just towards the Indians; but they have been 
more so than those of any other nation. In time of 
war, extermination has sometimes been the watchword, 
but it was when the passions were roused b}' scenes of 
Indian cruelty, and, even then, the vengeance has arisen 
from the stimulated fury of individual commanders, 
rather than from the orders of the government. The 
Indians are the victims, — but the blame should fall on 
those who engage them to practise such shocking barba- 
rities in their cause, and then leave them to their fate. 
The policy of the federal government has been, from 
the beginning, influenced by humane views towards the 
natives ; — it may not have done all in its power, but it 
has made numerous treaties with them, with fair stipu- 
lations, which have been observed with good faith. It 
has made some attempts at introducing the arts of civili- 
zation among them, and has endeavoured to mediate and 
prevent wars between hostile tribe*. More, perhaps, 

might have been done, — but are those benevolent minds^ 

21* 



250 



which deplore the suflferings and degradation of Indians, 
prepared to prove that they might have been prevented ''. 
or would they support the measures and expenses neces- 
sary to the experiment of civilizing them ? 

The flood of civilization is constantly flowing, till at 
no distant period it mast cover the whole of our part of 
the continent. It is hardly worth discussing the ques- 
tion, whether the government ought to confine its pro- 
gress, when it is obviously out of their power. Even 
the gens cVannes and douaniers of Napoleon would have 
been insufficient for this purpose; — and how is it possi- 
ble for the government to control the scouts, the pre- 
cursors of civilization ? a set of restless, daring, and 
commonly profligate beings, whose character, like their 
position, is intermediate, between savage and civilized 
life, and is more prone to possess the vices of both, than 
the virtues of either. These people are incapable of 
the restraints of civilized society as the savage himself ; 
they move on before it, and as it overtakes them, still 
advance, — perhaps cultivating a little, but easily shift- 
ing their residence, — and fonder of the gun than the 
plough. These are the people with whom the Indian 
comes most in contact, and often receives injuries that 
are revenged upon the innocent. This has been the 
course of things from the beginning; and it appears to 
me quite impossible for the government to alter it, even 
if they employed a large army, and the greatest expen- 
diture. The Indians must recede, and perish gradually, 
not through the agency of the whites, but through the 
vices and diseases they acquire from them. All that 
:s practicable, seems to be the civilization of those 
insulated bodies of Indians, which the rapid and acci- 
'lental flow of civilization has left among uSo What 



251 



would be the most effectual process, or the ultimate re- 
sults from even these limited attempts, are not very 
clearly defined. 

A strong reason against commencing the attempts 
at civilization exclusively with religious iostruction, 
is the opposition that will be opposed by Indian supersti- 
tion. The Indians, particularly the highest and least 
vitiated among them, are attached to their own notions, 
some of which are the soundest principles of natural 
religion. They are very apt to confound our religion 
with the evils our society has brought upon them; and 
their prophets take every occasion to excite their dis- 
trust of our missionaries ; — they represent it as the 
fatal engine that encloses the means of their destruction: 
Tiineo Danaos et dona ferentes, would answer for the 
motto of their warnings to the tribe. Sometimes they 
reject our offers with violence, — but more commonly 
with a sarcastic and deep irony, that is veiled under an 
appearance of candour and thankfulness. There is 
a very good story on this subject, told by Dr. Franklin; 
and the following, narrated by the Honourable Mr. Bou- 
dinot, in his '^ Star in the He«(," is very creditable to 
Indian sagacity. 

This gentleman, as one of the agents of the society in 
Scotland for propagating the gospel, had been instru- 
mental in fitting two missionaries, who were sent to the 
Delaware nation. The chiefs were called together, 
and after deliberating for fourteen days, sent back the 
missionaries, very courteously, with an answer, which 
•' made great acknowledgments for the favour we had 
" done them. They rejoiced exceedingly at our hap- 
'* piness in being thus favoured by the Great Sp.irit, and 
*' felt very grateful that we had condescended to re- 



252 



" member our brethren in the wilderness. But they 
" could not help recollecting that we had a people 
" among us, who, because they differed from us in co- 
" lour, we had made slaves of, and made them suffer 
" great hardships, and lead miserable lives. Now, they 
" could not see any reason, if a people being black, en- 
" titled us thus to deal with them, why a red colour 
" would not equally justify the same treatment. They 
" therefore had determined to wait, to see whether all 
"the black people amongst us were made thus happy 
"and joyful, before they could put confidence in our 
"promises, for they thought a people who had suffer- 
" ed so much, and so long, by our means, should be en- 
" titled to our first attentions; — that, therefore, they had 
" sent back the two missionaries, with many thanks, — 
" promising that, when they saw the black people among 
" us restored to freedom and happiness, they would 
" gladly receive our missionaries. This is what, in any 
" other case, would be called close reasoning, and is too 
" mortifying a fact to make further remarks upon." 

This brings me to the expression of an opinion that 1 
have for some time entertained, — and in explanation of 
which, you must indulge me with a little more patience. 
I am strongly inclined to believe that the negro is much 
more susceptible of civilization, and the improvements 
that follow it, than the Indian ; and though I would ne- 
glect nothing humanity could suggest, in favour of the 
latter, I apprehend that the opportunity for doing good 
is, beyond measure, more extensive in the case of the 
African, than in that of the American aboriginal. The 
Indian race has been constantly, and is now daily de- 
creasing; — and the course has been going on so long, 
that there is some reason for supposing it is owing to some 



253 

inherent and immutable principles. The African, on 
the contrary, is steadily increasing ; an increase, nnder 
all circumstances, that must make every humane and 
reflecting individual look with painful solicitude to its 
future consequences. 

This is a topic on which an inhabitant of your state 
and one of mine can seldom converse without res- 
traint, and giving rise to unpleasant feelings. From all 
I have observed, I am convinced, that it will always 
produce negative or injurious consequences, for the 
people of these or the middle states to be the movers 
in any of the questions relating to slavery. They have 
for a long period taken no steps, and the proprietors 
in some of the slave-holding states, impelled by far- 
sighted and humane views, have commenced, of their 
own accord, measures that may gradually lead to a sys- 
tem of amelioration and prevention. The jealousy of 
the citizens in those sections, on this point, appears to 
me not only natural, but reasonable; they cannot see 
with calmness persons undertaking to legislate on a 
subject, which involves exclusively their property and 
safety in the most intimate manner. It is impossible 
they should not see and feel the evil, who live in the 
midst of it; and it is equally so that they should not be 
anxious to provide gradual remedies for what creates 
so much well-founded anxiety; which the humane have 
so long deplored, and which their greatest statesmen 
consider as a stain on the past, a misfortune for the 
present, and pregnant with the most extensive calami- 
ties for future times. All we can do advantageously, is 
to second your efforts to the utmost in our power, but 
to leave the preparation of all measures to originate with 
yourselves. 



251 



] have said that the negro is more susceptible of 
civilization and improvement than the Indian, and the 
proofs of it, both negative and positive, are abundant. — 
No Indian family can be found living in a civilized state, 
educating their children, and accumulating property. 
Now, the cases of negroes having done this, and under 
every disadvantage, may be found in different places. 
This class of men were formerly slaves among us, and 
are still looked upon with contempt. — They have every 
thing to struggle against : yet many have obtained a 
degree of consideration, in spite of the strongest pre- 
judices, by the force of good conduct. They have, in 
several instances, acquired ^ very comfortable property, 
and conduct themselves with perfect propriety. A 
much greater improvement may be expected among 
them in future, because their children are now almost 
all of them sent to school, and a fairer chance will be 
given to estimate their capacities. I was much struck 
by a circumstance I have before mentioned, that in two 
of the degenerate Indian tribes, under the care of the 
state of Massachusetts, the two most respectable indi- 
viduals were of African origin. 

The negro is a more gay, light-hearted, social being, 
than the Indian; becomes easily and permanently do- 
mesticated. Much less pains have been taken to im- 
prove their minds, and they have produced more bene- 
ficial results. They have been more degraded, by being 
kept in a state of hopeless slavery, and the few who 
were emancipated from that, were still treated with 
contempt by the meanest white men. They are fonder 
of cheerful amusements, and in no degree so prone to 
drunkenness as the Indian. Perhaps they may not be 
susceptible of the highest degree of civilization; they 



255 



may not have sufficient intelligence and command of 
pasision to form the citizens of a free government. 
But in a lower grade of existence, in a state of things 
that is consistent with the two extremes of misery and 
splendour vndcr a government, where a privileged few 
govern, what Spencer calls, " the rascal ma;/!/,-" — for a 
moderate despotism, in short, they have shown them- 
selves fully adequate. The court of St. Domingo is 
as splendid as many that it aped; nor was it only in 
this frivolity of titles, ribands, embroidery, or parade, 
that it was successful; but in sagacious precautions for 
defence, and the greatest energy and watchfulness 
for carrying its plans into execution, it has shown clear 
and commanding views. Now, it must be recollected, 
that this has been done, not by a people who were in 
any state of preparation, but by men who passed from 
a condition of the most abject slavery at once into 
power; — and that they have maintained themselves 
against a most formidable combination of secret perfidy 
and open force, and in all probability will now per- 
petuate an independent, insular government, in the 
midst of a chain of islands, whose population is com- 
posed of the same materials, and which it may be ex- 
pected will, in some way, be hereafter assimilated to 
them. 

Whether this opinion of their greater capacity for 
improvement, relatively to the Indian, be well founded 
or not, the field of experiment is beyond comparison 
wider. The blacks are fifteen or twenty times as nume- 
rous as the red men now; and the latter are dwindling 
away every year, while the former are portentously 
increasing. The amount of good to be done will be 
suflBcient to satiate the thirst of the most ardent benevo- 



256 

lence ; and the difficulty of effecting it will be great 
enough to occupy the most intelligent ambition. The 
dangers to be averted are of the most dreadful descrip- 
tion; the advantage to be gained of the most beneficent 
character. Those who engage in it need have no 
fears of being left without employment; the process 
must be gradual and cautious, to be useful, and will not 
be completed by one generation. 

Thinking, as I do, that the states which have no slaves 
should decline the exercise of any right to originate 
measures on this momentous subject, I might escape, 
as one of their citizens, from the difliculty of the 
subject, and feel bound to make no suggestions of what 
might be practicable. But those who dread the conse- 
quences of innovation, and refuse to take any measures 
at all, say it is very easy to declaim about humanity and 
policy, — but that nothing can be done, and that the 
least change will lead to a long train of mischievous 
consequences and ultimate ruin. But reasoners of this 
description are not aware, that on this, as on many 
other subjects, to make no change exposes you to the 
most fearful kind of alteration : not to accommodate 
yourself to the spirit and circumstances of your age, 
leaves you in a situation, which their progress will soon 
render awkward and defendless; — that standing still, 
when others are advancing, is virtually retreatmg; that 
every nation and every legislature that do not float on- 
ward, with the flood of public sentiment, but still ad- 
here to their old prejudices and fears, will be infallibly 
submerged by the very tide that would have safely 
carried them on its bosom. 

The coarser mode of preceeding seems to have been 
resorted to in some places, — the plan of obviating danger 



257 



by increased severity; — this will answer very well 
where the thing dreaded is temporary in its nature, and 
where if it does not palliate, will exterminate. But this 
is not a case of that kind ; and a very little reflection 
must convince enlightened men, that greater severity, 
which is always the ready resort of rash and narrow 
minds, will here only exasperate the disorder, and 
inevitably bring on convulsions. 

The first step was taken by the nation in abolishing 
the infamous foreign traffic in slaves; the next point will 
be a close restriction and watchful regulation of the 
domestic transportation, and this falls within the juris- 
diction of local authority. The commencement that 
has been made towards attempting a colony for the free 
blacks in Africa, argues a wise and liberal policy. No 
force can be used ; but if a suitable situation could be 
obtained, where this class could find the inducement of 
bettering their situation, it might be the means of not 
only relieving us, but of introducing civilization into 
that barbarous continent. To get rid wholly of two 
millions of a very prolific race, cannot enter into the 
most extravagant mind ; it is a population that is 
entailed upon us forever ; what is the best mode of 
regulating it, is the only inquiry. Total emancipation 
is quite out of the question; it would be attended with 
innumerable evils if it were practicable. The only expe- 
dient seems to be a cautious and gradual amelioration; 
till the slothtul, sulky, smarting slaves, should be raised 
to the condition of feudal tenants, or a Russian peasant- 
ry; — that their personal condition, though heavily re- 
stricted, should not be entirely without the pale of law 
and humanity; — that their situation should be so far 

improved, that those who are the property of the poor- 

22 



258 

est or most unfeeling, should be as happy as those wlio 
are now the property of the wealthy and humane 
planters; — that religious and moral instruction should be 
allowed them; — that families should not be torn asunder 
for sale; and that they should have a right of self-pur- 
chase under certain stipulations, one of which should be 
that of leaving the country. 

A system of this kind might be gradually introduced, 
and the proprietor would derive at least equal emolu- 
ments, and certainly greater security. The shocking 
scenes which are sometimes occasioned by a brutal 
ignorant owner, would be prevented ; the degrading 
aspect of slavery would be softened; its deleterious 
effects on freemen mitigated, — and the fearful anxiety, 
which must rather increase than diminish, would be done 
away. Whatever is effected must begin with you, — we 
can only second your exertions, and with the deepest 
sympathy for your attempts to diminish this great mass 
of evil and misery, cry, God speed you. 



LETTER XIII. 

Scenery arid Climate. 
Dear Sir, 

You have perhaps resided long enough on this 
side of the Atlantic, to perceive that our climate is as 
different as our scenery must have appeared to you 
from that of your own country. If I touch a little on 
what is peculiar in each, with some comparative allu- 
sions, you will readily know where I am mistaken, and 
perhaps your own observations on these subjects will 
be in some degree facilitated. 



259 



Foreigners from the continent of Europe, who are 
struck with the liberty and happiness we enjoy, and 
who still remember the mild climates they have left, 
assert, that wc should be too fortunate if we had as 
fine a climate as they possess ; and that the asperity of 
our weather is the only drawback we suffer, and the 
only evil to be put in the balance against the sufferings 
of Europe, by the emigrant, who wishes to make a 
right estimate between the two countries. The na- 
tives of the south of Europe cannot bear our snow and 
icy air, and those of the north, pant under the fer- 
vid heat of our summers. The one sighs after lemon- 
trees flourishing openly in January, and the other regrets 
a temperature admirably adapted to turnips, while he 
is sweltering in one that makes the Indian corn grow 
audibly. 

There is one point in our climate that occasions most 
of these reproaches, and is in truth a serious objection, 
and this is, its great inequality. There would be fewer 
complaints if it were steadily bad; — but the occasional 
beauty and perfection it presents, enhances its incon- 
veniences, by a feeling of disappointment. Greece 
and Italy cannot boast of more exquisite days than we 
are frequently favoured with in the summer and autumn; 
and the most fog-smitten, ice-bound regions in Europe, 
can endure no worse meteorological sufferings than are 
sometimes inflicted on us. This is an evil from which 
the country can never be exempted, though it will be 
moderated a little by the effect of cultivation. This 
amelioration may never happen to the degree which many 
persons have anticipated; — but that some change has 
been produced, almost every man can testify from his 
own experience. 



260 



The average results of the thermometer through the 
year, compared with the same transatlantic data, would 
give a very imperfect knowledge of our climate. The 
averages that would approach the nearest in result, 
are produced from very opposite circumstances; — there, 
they are drawn from a succession of moderate, though 
variable temperatures; here, from great extremes, which 
often last a considerable period. The climate of Flan- 
ders, and some parts of Germany, would exhibit the 
same average with some districts here, that ripen the 
melon and Indian corn, — which you must enter Gascony 
and Provence, Spain and Portugal, to find in Europe. 
Many of the richest productions of Ceres and Pomona 
may be raised among us, if they can reach maturity 
during the transient and fervid heat of our summers; 
while others, such as the grape, whose tardy growth re- 
quires along exemption from frost, is always uncertain. 

The position of our continent, and the course of the 
winds, will always give us an unequal climate, and one 
abounding in contrasts. In the latitude of 60', on the 
north-west coast of America, the weather is milder 
even than in the same parallel in Europe; — the wind, 
three quarters of the year, comes off the Pacific : in the 
same latitude on the eastern side, the country is hardly 
worth inliKbiting, under the dreary length of cold, pro- 
duced by the succession of winds across a frozen con- 
tinent. The wind and the sun too often carry on the 
contest here, which they exerted on the poor traveller 
in the fable; and we are in doubt to which we shall 
yield. The changes that cultivation, and planetary 
influence, if there be such a thing, can create, are very 
gradual. It seems to be a general opinion, that the 
cold is more broken now, though the totals of beat and 
cold may be nearly the same as they were fifty years 



261 



ago. The winters, particularly, have commenced 
later. The autumn is warmer and the spring colder. 
We are still subject to the same caprices; a flight 
of snow in May, a frost in June, and sometimes in 
every month in the year; and yEoIus indulges his ser- 
vants in stranger freaks and extravagances here, than 
elsewhere : yet the severe cold winter seldom sets in 
before January; the snow is less and later, and on the 
sea-coast does not, on an average, afl'ord more than a 
month's sleighing. 

These contrasts in our climate occasion some very 
picturesque effects, — some that would be considered 
phenomena by persons unaccustomed to them. It blends 
together the circumstances of very distant regions in 
Europe. Thus, when the earth lies buried under a 
deep covering of snow, in Europe, the clime is so far 
to the north, that the sun rises but little above the hori- 
zon, and his daily visit is a very short one; — his feeble 
rays hardly illumine a chilly sky, that harmonizes with 
the dreary waste it covers ; but here, the same surface 
reflects a dazzling brilliancy from rays that strike at the 
same angle ai which they do the dome of St. Peter's. 
The plains of Siberia and the Campagnu di Roma, are 
here combined; — we have the snow of the one, and the 
sun of the other, at the same period. While his rays, 
in the month of March, are expanding the flowers and 
blossoms at Albano and Tivoli, they are here falling on 
a wide, uninterrupted covering of snow, — producing a 
dazzling brilliancy that is almost insupportable. A moon- 
light at this season is equally remarkable, and its efl'ects 
can be more easily endured. Our moon is nearly the 
same with that moon of Naples, which Carracioli told 
the king of England was "superior to his majesty's 
22* 



262 

sun," — and when this surface of spotless snow is shone 
upon by this moon at its full, and reflects back its beams, 
the light, indeed, is not that of day, but it takes away all 
appearance of night ; — the witch and the spectre would 
shi'ink from its exposure. 

" It is not night;— 'ti? but the day-light sick ; 

" It looks a little paler." Shakspeare. 

The climate is more open on the sea-coast, and more 
unequal than in the interior. Rhode-Island, and some 
of the islands on that part of the coast, approach more 
nearly than any other part of our country does, to the 
mild temperature of England. The snow lies but a 
short time, and the extremes of heat and cold are a little 
mitigated. Particular situations will possess advantages 
over others, either from the nature of the soil, the po- 
sition of hills, and the joint effect of both ; — but circum- 
stances of this kind have not here been minutely attend- 
ed to. In Europe, these local peculiarities are well un- 
derstood and improved, — and a favoured valley, or well- 
exposed slope, will possess a reputation over all others 
in its vicinity. Observation will gradually lead us to 
remark the best positions, and to appreciate the supe- 
riority which certain localities intrinsically exhibit. 

On the sea-coast, the winters are milder, but the ob- 
noxious east winds are more severely felt in the spring 
than they are in the interior, — and the whole coast of 
Massachusetts Bay is remarkably exposed to their in- 
fluence. Some compensation, however, is derived for 
their harshness and virulence in the spring, by their re- 
freshing and salutary breezes in the summer, when they 
frequently allay the sultry heat, and prevent it from be- 
coming oppressive. Although a district favourably si- 



263 



tuated will enjoy an average of climate two or three de- 
grees better than those in- its neighbourhood, yet, gene- 
rally, the progress of the climate is pretty regular as 
you follow the coast of the United States, from north- 
east to south-west. I am induced to think that our great 
rivers have some connexion with the gradations of cli- 
mate, — and that every large river you pass, makes a dif- 
ference of two or three degrees in the averages of the 
thermometer. The position of mountains will affect the 
climate essentially ; — but these rivers, whose course 
upwards is northerly, will still, in general, be lines of 
demarkation. The Kennebec, the Piscataqua, the Mer- 
rimac, Connecticut, Hudson, and Delaware, all of which 
run from the north, or north-west, will furnish some data 
for this theory. The difl'erencc, for instance, between 
Portsmouth and Boston, between New-York and Phila- 
delphia, is, in both cases, very considerable ; more than 
is produced in other districts of wider extent, where 
no great river intervenes. Here there are two in each 
of these cases. I do not mean to give it to you as a po- 
sitive theory, but merely as a supposition, that every 
large river makes an increase of three degrees in the 
cold of winter, at least in the extremes of it. 

There would be no more eflfectual way of showing 
the striking differences between our climate and that of 
Europe, than by arranging the months in each country 
according to their quality. The same months have a 
very dissimilar character. Generally speaking, the 
spring is finer than the autumn, in Europe, which is just 
the reverse of what happens in this country. Nations, 
through the influence of literature, obtain from each 
other maxims and prejudices, that are wholly inaj)plica- 
ble. W« are especially exposed to this, as regards your 



264 



country, from the identity of language. But when your 
poets abuse Norember, and praise May, we cannot sym- 
pathize with them. Indeed, with regard to this latter 
month, half the world are led into absurdity. The poets 
of Greece might eulogize the month of May ; — those of 
Italy might follow them with safety ; and from these 
two, all the rest of mankind have derived the habit of 
talking about the " charming month of May." This is 
often ridiculous in Paris, — more so, perhaps, than it is at 
London ; but in this country it is a downright insult to 
the feelings of plain prose, and our native rhymes have 
seldom the indecency to praise a month which is the 
most arrant jilt of the twelve, and is so cold, deceptive, 
and capricious, under an occasional smile; and it is now 
only practised by those who have got their ideas and 
names by rote. In arranging the months, there may be 
some variation in the fancy of diiferent people; — but in 
all cases, the position of certain months would be very 
different from their rank in Europe. If I were to place 
them according to my own opinion of their merits, they 
would stand thus : — June, July, September, August, 
October, November, May, December, January, April, 
February, March. But there would be many different 
plans for marshalling them, — and chaos would come 
again if their order were at our disposal. Fortunately, 
their government is beyond our reach; — we cannot stop 
the wheels on which they revolve. 

In connexion with our climate, the appearance of 
our atmosphere may be considered ; and the lover of 
picturesque beauty will find this a fruitful source of it. 
The same inequalities will be found here that take 
place in the measure of heat and cold, and an equal 
number of contrasts and varieties. We have many of 



266 



those days, when a murky vapourishness is diffused 
through the air, dimming the lustre of the sun, and 
producing just such tones of hght and colour as would 
be marked in the calendar of Newfoundland or the 
Hebridps, for a light, fair day. We have again others, in 
which even the transparency and purity of the tropics, 
and all the glowing mellow hues of Greece and Na- 
ples, are blended together, to shed a hue of paradise on 
every object I have already spoken of the intense 
brilliancy of a winter moonlight : when the air has a po- 
lar temperature, the same brilliancy and a greater clear- 
ness is often found in the month of June, and sometimes 
ID July, with the warmth of the Equator. There is, 
occasionally, in the summer and autumn such magical 
effects of light, such a universal tone of brilliant colour- 
ing, that the very air seems tinged; and an aspect of 
such harmonious splendour is thrown over every object, 
that the attention of the most indifferent is awakened, 
and the lovers of the beautiful in nature enjoy the most 
lively delight. These are the kind of tints which even 
the matchless pencil of Claude vainly endeavoured to 
imitate. They occur a few times every year, a little 
before sunset, and under a particular state of the air 
and position of the clouds. These beautiful appear- 
ances are not so frequent indeed here, as they are at 
Naples; all those warm and delicate colours which we 
see in Neapolitan pictures, occur there more often; 
but I have frequently observed the hills to the south of 
Boston exhibiting, towards sunset, the same exquisite 
hues which Vesuvius more frequently presents, and 
which the Neapolitans, in their paintings of it, always 
adopt. The vivid beauty which I now speak of, is rare 
and transient : but we often enjoy the charms of a 



266 

transparent atmosphere, where objects stand in bold 
relief, and even distant ones will present all their lines 
and angles, clean and sharp, from the deep distant sky, 
as on the shores of Greece; and we gaze at sunset on 
gorgeous skies, where all the magnificence that form 
and colour can combine, are accumulated, to enrapture 
the eye, and render description hopeless. 

The scenery of this country will have struck you at 
once, as very different from that of Europe : — this dif- 
ference is partly intrinsic, and partly accidental, — aris- 
ing out of the kinds and degrees of cultivation. The 
most obvious and extensive view in which it differs, is 
the redundancy of forest. A vast forest, to a person 
who had never seen one, would excite almost as strong 
sensations, as the sight of the ocean to him who beheld 
it for the first time, — and in both cases, a long conti- 
nuance of the prospect becomes tiresome. From some 
of our hills, the spectator looks over an expanse of 
woods, bounded only by the horizon, and sparely che- 
quered with cultivation. The view is grand and impos- 
ing at first, but it will be more agreeable, and afford more 
lasting gratification, when the relative proportions of 
wood and open ground are reversed. The most culti- 
vated parts of these states approach the nearest to some 
of the most covered parts in England, that are not an 
actual forest. We have nothing like the Downs, on 
your southern coast, — and fatiguing as an eternal forest 
may be, it is less so than these dreary wastes, as desti- 
tute of objects as the mountain swell of the ocean. We 
have still so much wood, that even in the oldest culti- 
vated parts of the country, it is very difficult to find a 
panoramic view of any extent, where some patches of 
the native forest are not to be found. I know of but one 



267 



exception, which is from the steeple of the church in 
Ipswich in Essex, Massachusetts. This is one of our 
oldest towns, and the prospect will put you in mind of 
the scenery of your own country : — I need not add, 
that it is a very pleasing one, and will repay you for the 
slight trouble of ascending the steeple. 

The trees, though there are, too many of them at 
least, in masses, must please the eye of an European, 
from their variety and beauty, as well as novelty. The 
richness of our trees and shrubs has always excited the 
admiration of botanists, and the lovers of landscape gar- 
dening. There can be nothing nobler than the appear- 
ance of some of the oaks and beeches in England, and 
the walnuts and chestnuts in France and Italy. The vast 
size of these spreading trees is only surpassed by some. 
of our sycamores on the banks of the Ohio. Our oaks 
may sometimes be seen, of the same size, — and the 
towering white pine and hemlock reach a height that I 
have never seen attained by trees in Europe; — but, for 
grandeur of appearance, we must rely, in the first in- 
stance, on the American elm, that has been planted for 
ornament. Its colour, its form, and its size, place it 
much before the European elm ; it is one of our most 
majestic trees. There are many varieties of it, very 
distinct, — yet not so numerous as of the oaks, walnuts, 
and some others. Of the former, you know we have 
between thirty and forty different species, and a great 
number of species exist of all our principal trees. This 
variety, in the hands of taste, would be made productive 
of the finest effects in ornamental planting, of which 
you may find more specimens in your own country 
than in this, though only a part of our riches in this 



268 



way have been transplanted by your gardeners. You 
will remark the fresh and healthy look of our forest, as 
well as fruit trees, compared with those of all the 
northern parts of Europe. The humidity of that at- 
mosphere nourishes the mosses, and a green coating over 
the trunks and branches, that give the aspect of disease 
and decay. You will often observe the clean and smooth 
bark of our trees, of all kinds; — among the forest trees, 
particularly the walnut, maple, beech, birch, &-c. will 
be seen entirely free from moss or rust of any kind, — 
and their trunks form fine contrasts with the leaves. 
You will have too much of forest in this country, to go 
in pursuit of one; — but should you happen to visit 
Nashawn, one of the Elizabeth Islands, you will see the 
most beautiful insulated forest in the United States, with 
'less of that ragged, lank look, which our native forests 
commonly present, from the trees struggling with each 
other for the light, and running up to a great height, with 
few or no branches ; but this one exhibits the tufted, 
rounded masses, which are found in the groves of your 
parks . 

You will be almost ready to exclaim, with the " Ca- 
pricious Fair," in Pope, " O ! odious, odious trees," — 
but you must have patience a moment longer, while I 
mention one peculiarity which you will witness in autumn, 
that will affect a lover of landscape scenery, like your- 
self, on seeing it the first time, with surprise as well as 
delight. The rich and mellow tints of the forest, at 
that season of the year, have often furnished subjects 
for the painter and (he poet, in Europe; — but it will 
hardly prepare you for the sights our woods exhibit. I 
have never seen a representation of them attempted in 
painting; — it would probably be grotesque. Besides all 



269 

the shades of brown and green, which you have in Eu- 
ropean trees, there are the most brilhant and glaring co- 
lours, — bright yellow, and scarlet, for instance, — not 
merely on single leaves, but in masses of whole trees, 
with all their foliage thus tinged. I do not know that it 
has ever been accounted for, but it may, perhaps, be 
owing to the frosts coming earlier here than in Europe, 
and falling on the leaves, while the sap is yet copious, 
before they have begun to dry up and fall off. However 
this may be, the colouring is wonderful; — the walnut is 
turned to the brightest yellow, the maple to scarlet, kc. 
Our forests put on this harlequin dress about the first 
of October. I leave to your imagination, which can 
never reach the reality, to ftxncy the appearance of such 
scenes as you may behold at this season; — a cloudless 
sky, and transparent atmosphere, — a clear blue lake, 
with meadows of light, delicate green, backed by hills 
and dales, of these parti-coloured, gorgeous forests, 
are often combined to form the most enchanting views. 

Though you will not find in this country any of 
those extensive districts of uninterrupted cultivation, 
which are so common in Europe, and though there is 
such a predominance of forest in our scenery, still 
there are situations which present a noble appearance 
of fertile soil and productive agriculture. The beau- 
tiful river Connecticut, which glides by some of the 
handsomest villages in Vermont, New-Hampshire, Massa- 
chusetts, and the state to which it gives a name, is, 
through almost its whole extent, bordered with fertile 
banks in high cultivation. These lands, those at 
least that are within reach of the river floods, have 
here the common appellation of intervale. This 
species of land, on all our rivers, is the most valuable 
23 



270 



we possess, and gives perennijrily the most exuberant 
crops. There are some extended tracts of it near 
Northampton, for example, which rival the aspect of 
the richest plains in Flanders or Italy. 

Almost the whole of New-England is a region of 
gentle hill and dale, except where in the northern 
or western parts it rises into mountains. The whole sur- 
face is chequered with cultivation, excepting some por- 
tions of Maine. The practice of the country is not 
to build in compact villages, as in Europe, but the dwel- 
lings and farms are scattered along the roads. You 
would not get a correct idea of the population of the 
country, in passing through it by the mail roads. These 
are generally the turnpikes that have been made within 
a few years, and connect the principal towns by the 
shortest routes; passing in strait lines over rocky hills, 
and through swamps, offering no marks of cultivation or 
inhabitants, even in the midst of a populous section, 
while the old public roads in the vicinity, which were 
established with little reference to the shortest lines 
between remote places, wind their way through a long 
line of continuous farms and dwellings. The general 
good that was educed from these turnpikes, was, in the 
opinion of some persons, out of "seeming evil." — 
When the spirit for this kind of improvement was very 
rife in Massachusetts, a farmer, who had come to oppose 
the petition for a turnpike, was standing outside the 
bar of the representatives' chamber, when a gentleman 
was talking with another about the purchase of a farm. 
He took part in the conversation, without any intro- 
duction, a circumstance wholly Ifinexampled in this 
country, and addressing himself to the person who con- 
templated making a purchase; — " You talk, Sir, of buy- 



271 



ing a farm ? Yes, Sir. — Do you wish to have it on a 
high road, where the traveller will pass your house ? 
Certainly I do. — Well, Sir, then do you go right into the 
middle of the woods, and begin a farm any where, and it is 
an even chance that you will have a turnpike by your house 
in a year or two; but if you fix yourself on any establish- 
ed road, where the mail and public travelling passes, 
I vow it will be taken from you before you have got 
warm in your house." 

The most pleasing of our rural scenes, and which 
are frequently met with, are composed of the following 
materials ; a farm-house, shaded with two or three 
spreading elms, large barns, for not only the grain and 
the hay, (which are stacked in Europe,) but where all 
our animals are housed, — an extensive orchard, one or 
two fields of that noble plant, the Indian corn, beautiful 
in all its stages; a small brook with a green meadow; 
and within sight, if not adjoining, the woodland that sup- 
plies the common fuel of the country. 

Our picturesque objects of an artificial kind, are 
vastly fewer than those in older countries. The total 
absence of ruins deprives us of what is an abundant 
source of associations in Europe. No artist could be 
reconciled to this deficiency, and in truth we have no 
other way to turn the edge of reproach on this account, 
than by boldly assuming, that the landscape is better 
without them : — that the sight of these grisly, hideous 
remains, conjure up the ideas of baronial oppression, 
feudal slavery, and monkish delusion; — that in those 
mouldering dungeons were formerly immured the vic- 
tims of priestly or" lordly tyranny; — and those ruined 
walls once protected a few lawless despots, who carried 
on a petty but cruel warfare for personal revenge, and 



272 

held a wretched peasantry in abject dependence; — thai 
they recall times of ignorance and misrule, of bar- 
barism and murder, and awaken painful recollections in 
the midst of the most smiling scenery; — that in this 
happy region of freedom, where no slave exists, and no 
oppression ever dwelt, the earth is encumbered with 
no mark or trophy of despotism ; no monument attests 
a period of anterior degradation, and wherever the 
eye turns, it beholds the unpoluted soil of liberty. 

If this ranting will not do, I must frankly give up the 
point, and acknowledge our want of this class of objects. 
There is another of a humbler and more pleasing kind, 
that are also rarely found here; I mean the straw roofed 
cottage, the latticed window, the antique mansion, the 
ivied church. Here and there an old farm-house 
may be found, that would serve a painter's ^urn, and 
frequently a distant steeple peeps over the trees, that 
has a pleasing effect, till you come near the building 
it belongs to, when all idea of the picturesque is at once 
annihilated. Our houses are plain, square, regular 
things, suggesting at once that our carpenters are good 
workmen, and that the country is in a flourishing 
state, which is so spotted over with white painted 
dwellings. An artist could seldom get a study into his 
port-folio from one of their habitations. In the paucity 
of subjects of this nature, I may mention one that is 
fast disappearing. This is the well-post, where a 
crotched tree is made to support a slender pole, from 
one end of which hangs the rod and bucket over the 
well, and balanced by a log or a few stones fastened to the 
other. A contrivance of this kind, which goes back to 
the primitive ages of the world, may still be found 
attached to some old farm-houses; but in this case ! 



273 



believe the house will almost always be of one story, oi 
in the old manner of building, with two stories in front, 
and a long roof, sloping down to one behind. — These 
rude machines are fast giving way to pumps or aque- 
ducts, which are doubtless more convenient. The 
science of hydraulics has done much for the comfort 
of mankind, but it has superseded one of the simplest 
and one of the grandest class of artiticial objects. The 
rural well-pole, which a few rude hands can erect, and 
the colossal aqueduct, still displaying some of the 
noblest efforts of Koman grandeur, are both superseded 
by the simplest principle of that science. 

The mountain scenery of this country is inferior to 
that of Europe, not only in elevation and massiveness, 
but in beauty and grandeur of outline. We have no- 
thing in these respects to compare with the Pyrennees 
and the Alps. The highest mountains in the whole 
region of North America, on the Atlantic side, arc in 
the state of New Hampshire, and these which are 
modestly called the White Hills, do not rise above 
6000 feet. The mountains of Vermont and Massa- 
chusetts do not exceed 4000 feet. These mountains 
cannot fail of exhibiting some grand and beautiful 
scenery, but still not equal to that of the European 
continent. The outline of our mountain is more 
roundimr, and tamer; what is signiticantly termed hog- 
back; there are fewer of those astounding precipices, 
of those deep and gloomy ravines, of tho;:e abrupt 
elevation*, and towering peaks; and the sublimity of 
the eternal glaciers of Mont-Blanc must always be 
wanting. It must be remembered, however, that all 
the treasures of our mountains have not been laid open; 

they have been very partially explored bv the artist 

23* 



274 



or the man of science. It is but recently that their 
height was accurately ascertained. Their interior has 
been little examined; their exterior rarely portrayed. 
They may possess mines of wealth for the mineralogist 
and the artist, which future efforts will develope. 

After admitting the inferiority of our mountain land- 
scape generally to that of Europe, we may be allowed 
to bring forward our water scenery, in which the 
United States possess a decided superiority. This 
country is unrivalled in the latter; — from the vast cata- 
ract of Niagara down to the smallest cascade; from our 
ocean lakes to the delightful ponds of water, that em- 
bellish almost every part of the eastern states, there is 
no form of grandeur or beauty that may not be dis- 
covered. Waterfalls are very abundant. Our streams 
are remarkable for flowing over different levels : not a 
brook or a river but precipitates itself more than once 
between its source and its receptacle. Our rivers are 
navigable for long distances, after their course is in- 
terrupted by falls, which naturally grow more and more 
numerous as they are ascended. A waterfall in Europe 
is the most uncommon of all the ingredients of land- 
scape. The falls of the Rhine, which attract the admi- 
ration of so many travellers, would hardly engage ob- 
servation among the numbers that surpass them here. 
Two-thirds of the course of our rivers would be use- 
less to transportation, were it not for locks and canals; 
while in Europe, the Thames, the Seine, the Loire, the 
Garonne, the Danube, and many others, may be ascend- 
ed from their estuaries almost to their sources, without 
meeting a single cascade. 

It is difficult to single out of such a number, the falls 
that are most worthy of your observation. The Kenne- 



275 



l>ec, Androscofijgin, Saco, Merrimac, Connecticul, with 
their tributaries, and many streams of inferior note, will 
offer you specimens. Fn some instances, the road is 
carried over bridges so near to waterfalls, that the 
traveller is deafened by their noise, and sometimee 
moistened with their spray; the Passaic, in Rhode-Island, 
the Saco and Androscoggin, in Maine, are instances 
among many others. None of these falls are very 
remarkable for their height in any one Leap, but are 
generally from ten to twent}' or thirty feet, yet are, in 
several rivers, repeated at short distances. In many 
cases the natural beauties are defaced, by the mills 
they support; but there are others where the effect is 
heightened; — in this latter class, two or three of the 
cascades on Charles's River may be mentioned, and the 
most beautiful of these, what are called the Upper Falls 
in Newton, a few miles from Boston, exhibit a piece 
of scenery worth visiting. 

Next in beauty to falls of water, is the class of 
lake scenery, where our possessions are, if possible, still 
more extensive; and with the same moderation that we 
call our mountains, hills, we call our lakes, ponds. 
There are several extensive sheets of water, but only 
two that are commonly called lakes; Champlain,in Ver- 
mont, and Winipiseogee, in New-Hampshire. Lake 
George is the most beautiful lake in the whole country; 
it is just without our limits, in the state of New^York; it 
was called by the French the Lake of the Holy Sacra- 
ment, from the extreme limpidness of its waters. 1 his 
quality, for which it is very remarkable, joined to the 
mountainous character of its shores, and innumerable 
islands, enables it to vie with any other in the world in 
beautiful effect. On a smaller scale, we have numbers 



276 

of these lakes that form exquisite pictures, — they are to 
be found every where, sometimes showing a bright 
gleam in the midst of a dark untouched forest, and 
reflecting no living forms, save those of some wild bird 
or animal, and in other situations, surrounded by mea- 
dows and farms. You may form some idea how many 
of these ponds may be found, when you are told that 
within a dozen miles of Boston, there are more than 
twenty of them, and in Plymouth County, Massachusetts, 
not of very great extent, there are said to be sixty. 
There are only a few instances in which the beautiful 
sites on their borders have been taken up for country 
residences; but the advantages they offer to the eye of 
taste are innumerable; and where they are surrounded 
by high ground, there is no evil in being near them. 
Some of our most beautiful villas will yet be created on 
their shores. 

One peculiar spot in the vicinity of Boston you must 
not omit visiting, if you are fond of marine scenery; 
and what islander, — and from your island too, who is 
not animated by the sight of the ocean ? — There is a 
remarkable promontory, called, in old maps, the Great 
Nahant, nine miles from Boston by water, and fifteen by 
land. A peninsula of very irregular outline and surface, 
live or six miles in circumference, is united by a beach 
of a mile and a quarter long to the coast, from which it 
projects so as to form a right angle with it. The upper 
part of this beach is composed of loose sand and stones; 
where the water flows, it is quite compact, and at low 
tide a dozen carriages may pass abreast on the sand, 
which appears smooth as a mirror, and so hard, that the 
horse's hoof scarcely leaves a mark. There is also 
another beach of the same description, about one-third 



277 



the length of the first; nothing can be finer than a ride 
over these smooth, hard courses, while the surf is roll- 
ing up and bursting in foam alongside, that runs and 
recedes under the horse's feet, as if in sport. The 
coast of this peninsula is defended from the fury of the 
sea, by masses of ragged precipitous rocks, which at 
the southern extremities overhang it at the height of 
more than a hundred feet. There are half a dozen 
farm houses, which afford the only places of shelter — it 
can hardly be called entertainment — to great numbers 
who frequent the spot for bathing, fishing, or shooting. 
It is surprising that this place should have been so long 
destitute of all tolerable accommodation for visiters. It 
might be one of the most delightful sea-bathing places 
in the world : to such as are fond of fishing, its shores 
afford endless sport. Some gentlemen have turned 
their attention to it of late, and it may grow up rapidly 
with conveniences, in which case it would certainly 
become a place of great resort. On the whole coast of 
the United States, at least from Portland to the southern 
side of the Mexican Gulf, there is not such a promon- 
tory as this. It presents some of the finest marine 
views that can be seen. One of its accompaniments, a 
league distant, is called Egg-rock, from being the home of 
Tast numbers of birds, who make their nests upon it; its 
shape and colours are iiighly picturesque. Nahant 
commands a prospect over a large part of the bay of 
Massachusetts, with the finest portion of its shores; it 
approaches so near to the lower harbour of Boston, as 
almost to form one of its defences; overseeing all its 
islands and channels ; the forts, with the town itself, 
rising in the back ground. The seascape here is always 
ipteresting; the materials for a picture abundant : in the 



278 

first place, the ocean, whose incessant movement and 
boundless expanse always engage the mind in reveries; 
the extensive shores, various in their appearance, and 
spotted over with towns, villages, and groves; the islands 
and the disastrous rocks, of which there are several to 
excite the dread of mariners ; the light-houses, which 
always raise agreeable associations in the mind, being 
one of the few objects that are erected, in a spirit of 
universal comity, for the common good of all mankind; 
and, lastly, a gay animation is thrown over the whole, 
by the scene beins interspersed with numerous vessels 
of all kinds, which lead the spectator, who overlooks 
the entrance of a great commercial mart, to sympathize 
in imagination with some of the liveliest joys and re- 
grets of the human mind, — the sensations that are 
passing in the bosoms of those before him, in " the out- 
ward and the homeward bound," — the grief of de- 
parture, the exultation of return. The south-east point 
of the peninsula resembles very strongly the picture in 
the travels of Anacharsis, of Cape Sunium near Athens; 
only that the beautiful temple on the brink of the 
Grecian Cape, whose harmonious architecture contrasts 
so sirikingly with the rude rocks beneath it, is here 
wanting. Perhaps hereafter, when Nahant shall possess 
a handsome marine village, and become the summer 
I'esidence of many families, a church may be raised on 
these rocks to the worship of that eternal God, who 
alone spreads out the heavens, and rides the raging of the 
sea. 

In travelling through the country, you will see culti- 
vation in all its different stages, from the rude log-house 
of those who have just commenced an establishment in 
the midst of the forest, to farms in the older districts, that 



279 

have beeo cultivated for nearly two centuries. You 
will see a country almost every where susceptible of 
profitable cultivation, with but a few spots absolutely 
sterile, and some of the highest fertility. The surface 
is agreeably variegated, and copiously watered; and 
no where those dreary wastes, like the heaths and downs 
of Europe. There are considerable tracts, however, 
where the soil is full as meagre as that of the heaths; 
they are now kept for woodland. If ever this wood is 
suffered to run out, these spots will become perfectly 
barren. 

You will rarely perceive any marks of decay, but al- 
most every where the indications of a prosperity gra- 
dually increasing. This aspect of general comfort and 
hap"pines3, will be a substitute for the want of many in- 
teresting objects that are found in Europe, and which 
are too often accompanied with appearances of misery. 
Though you will behold no magnificent castles or villas, 
you will find, every where, substantial dwellings, and 
more appearances of wealth, than displays of taste. In 
the vicinity of the larger towns, there are many hand- 
some country ieats, laid out on these principles, which 
we have borrowed from you, and which ornament every 
part of your island. Our improvements in this way are 
most of them recent, and are taken from your country, 
from which we have derived so much, and towards 
which we should feel so much affection, if political ani- 
mosities did not interfere, to exasperate the passions. 
This taste is not yet generally spread, but will soon 
make it^ way, — and then the number of fences that sur- 
round the better kind of dwellings, and are intended to 
be ornamental, though they have an awkward look, and 
are very troublesome to keep in order, will be replaced 
by hedges, lawns, and shrubheries. 



280 



There is almost an instinctive dislike to forest trees, 
in many of our farmers, and they seldom consider them 
as an ornament. This feeling naturally arose out of the 
difficulty of clearing a piece of land from its original 
forests. In those who commenced their farms with this 
kind of labour, the feeling can hardly be eradicated,-— 
and the habit of considering trees as a kind of nuisance, 
which ought to be destroyed, became general. It is not 
uncommon, therefore, to find a farmer cut down oaks 
that were near his house, and plant Lombardy poplars, 
as more ornamental. The increasing value of wood, 
and the example of better taste, will gradually prevent 
the repetition of similar absurdities. We have, how- 
ever, to guard against too servile an imitation of your 
style of landscape gardening. The circumstances of 
the country are diflerent, and the great beauties that 
grow out of contrast, must be produced in other ways. 
In Europe, where the country is universally cultivated, 
its unvaried aspect is fatiguing, and therefore the gar- 
deners resort to thick plantations, and continued belts 
of trees; — but here, where there is already too much 
of forest in the scenery, it should only be attempted to 
have a sufficient degree of shade for shelter, — and the 
view of cultivated grounds rather assisted than prevent- 
ed ; — a discriminating taste will be governed by these 
circumstances. 

You must not expect the park-like appearance of your 
own country ; you must not look for that succession of 
neat fields, ornamented grounds, picturesque plantations, 
and perfect tillage, with which wealth, taste, and agri- 
cultural skill have almost covered the surface of Eng- 
land; — but if you will look with candour on a young 
country, indulge cheerful sensations at its improving 



281 



state, which will every where appear. If you will not 
be disappointed at not seeing any vestiges of remote 
antiquity, or any of those splendid establishments great 
wealth can produce ; if your mind can be satisfied with 
frequent combinations of the loveliest natural scenery, 
you will find a tour through many parts of this section 
of the Union to be attended with great satisfaction. 



LETTER XIV. 

Harvard University. 

Mv DEAR Friend, 

You make some inquiries respecting our colleges. 
I cannot give you accurate details about most of them ; 
but a general account of the oldest, and the one 1 am 
best acquainted with, may answer your purpose ; and if 
you wish for more minute information, it will be readily 
obtained by addressing yourself to some of the gentle- 
men connected with it. Their plan of education is 
nearly the same, and the choice to be made must depend 
on various considerations. Local convenience and eco- 
nomy are the general motives that send most of the stu- 
dents to all these colleges, in preference to those at 
Cambridge and New-Haven. The students who come 
from a distance, are almost exclusively entered at one 
of these places, which, as they are the oldest, so they 
also possess the greatest number of professors, and the 
largest apparatus for study. 

Our colleges were established without reference to 

any general system. Each state has at least one ; — in 

24 



282 



some, there are two or three. The Theological CoJ- 
lege at Andover, in Massachusetts^ is solely devoted to 
students in divinity, who are preparing for the Christian 
ministry ; — in the others, all the chief branches of 
learning are taught, — but only one of them, that at Cam- 
bridge, is strictly entitled to the name of University, — 
and though it has long borne the appellation, it is but re- 
cently that it could be really so considered. Yale Col- 
lege, at New-Haven, has derived a high reputation, from 
the distinguished abilities of some of its late and pre- 
sent instructors ; but neither its ^'■personnel'" nor " ma- 
ttrieV are sufficiently complete to make it a university. 
It is, however, a very flourishing institution, and counts, 
among its students, youths from all parts of the United 
States. I am not qualified to go into a particular de- 
scription of it ; but some of the remarks I shall offer 
you upon Harvard University, will apply to this, and all 
our other colleges. 

One principle is common to all these establishments, 
and which will prevent any of them becoming truly a 
university, until it is changed: this is, the early age at 
which the students are admitted. Some of them are so 
young, that they are brought to the study of the moral 
and physical sciences, before their minds are matured 
enough to derive any lasting advantage from it. This 
was owing, originally, to the circumstances of the coun- 
try. Little more was intended than to make these col- 
leges a place where the learned languages might be ac- 
quired, and the students merely initiated in the study of 
the sciences. We were too young, too poor, had too 
much rough labour to perform, were too much in a hur- 
ry to commence the active business of life, to be able 
to devote the time necessary to a thorough school and 



283 



university education. We are preparing, gradually, to 
raise the scale of education, by prolonging its period. 
At Yale College, no student is received under fifteen, 
and the requisites for admission into Harvard University 
have been progressively increased, so that few now 
enter there under that age, — much the larger propor- 
tion is considerably above it. 

The plan of education in these seminaries, is partly 
that of a school, partly that of a university. All the 
four classes attend recitations, before their different tu- 
tors and professors, as in a school ; and also attend the 
various courses of lectures of the professors, as in a uni- 
versity. The recitations are, however, most frequent 
for the freshmen and sophomores ; the juniors and 
seniors attend to a greater number of lectures. This 
frequency of recitation is occasioned principally by the 
study of the languages. The system of education will 
be more complete, when the study of the languages, so 
far, at least, as it is a boyish study, shall be completed 
at school, and the student, when he comes to the univer- 
sity, shall only pursue them under the guidance of en- 
larged and philosophic criticism, to relish the beauties 
of the ancient poets, philosophers, and historians, and 
form his taste and style on the models they present. 
The student may then be loosed from the trammels of 
constant recitation, which may be compared to the fa- 
tigue of sailing in a convoy, where the dullest sailer re- 
gulates the speed of the whole tleet. If he comes per- 
fectly titled in the grammar, and in rendering the clas- 
sics, and has got through the first stages of some other 
studies, which can hardly be done before sixteen, he 
will be of a suitable age to commence the higher branches 
of learning, — and following the various courses of lee- 



2«4 



tures, and studying their subjects at the same time, he 
will advance faster than by the present system. Another 
advantage, also, will be gained; — he will be allowed 
greater liberty of selecting the studies most congenial 
to his taste and destination in life, it is one evil attend- 
ing plans of recitations, if too far extended, that students 
are forced to give their attention to studies, for which 
they have no degree of capacity, which can be of no 
use to them in their intended career, and for which, 
therefore, they naturally feel a great repugnance, and 
often oblige their instructors to wink at their deficiency. 
A mixture of the two modes of instruction, by recita- 
tion and by lectures, seems the best, because these re- 
citations are a frequent check on the students, and ope- 
rate, like an examination, to secure their attention. The 
question is, on the due proportion of each method. 

Harvard College was founded in 1638, and took its 
name from a clergyman, who gave a liberal sum to pro- 
mote it. An establishment of this kind, at so early a 
period, is strongly characteristic of our ancestors. The 
motto of its arms, Christo et Ecclesice, points out their 
leading motive, — to raise up ministers of the gospel;— 
it has fulfilled their intentions, by producing several 
hundred clergymen, many of whom were distinguished 
for their piety and their learning. The literature of 
this country, to say nothing of religion and morality, 
owes more to them than to any one, or, indeed, I may 
say, all the other professions together. At its com- 
mencement, it was under the direction of excellent 
scholars from the English universities, — and as a school 
for the languages, and the divinity of that day, it grew at 
once into eminence. It was always a favourite object 
Tvith our enlightened citizens, to increase its prosperity; 



285 



and its growth was slowly but steadily developing, as 
the country advanced. It continued in a flourishing 
state up to the period of the Revolution. Asa classicaJ 
school, it was not greatly inferior to those of England; 
and the Latin and Greek poems they produced, on the 
accession of George the Third to the throne, may stand 
a competition with similar effusions from the English 
colleges on the same occasion. The Revolution affect- 
ed it very sensibly. In that period of embarrassment, 
danger and uncertainty, its progress was interrupted, 
and its interests suffered in the general distress of the 
country. The breed of thorough, classical scholars, 
seems to have disappeared, — and we are only now be- 
ginning to produce a new race, that can vie with those 
who existed fifty years ago. What is called learning, in 
the narrow use of the term, received a fatal blow. — 
Those who had it, disappeared without leaving any suc- 
cessors; — the. course of instruction was broken up, and 
as there were no longer profound masters, there could 
be only superficial scholars. The evils of such an in- 
terruption are slowly repaired ; — its effects were shown 
for more than a generation. Tije change has been 
great and animating within a few years. The resources 
of all kinds, the talents, the administration of the uni- 
versity, have been vastly improved, — and if they !-houlil 
increase for the next, in the same ratio that tliey have 
for the last fifteen years, its most zealous friends will 
be amply gratified. 

This institution is a perpetual corporation; its manage- 
ment is vested in three bodies, — called the Gooemment^ 
jhe Corporation, and the Board of Overseers. The 
first is composed of the college oIVicpts; prpHideut, pro- 
fessors, &c., who have the care of the immediate police 
24* 



286 



of the university, the control of the students, the 
direction of their studies, rewards and punishments, &c.; 
the second consists of six gentlemen, who have the 
power of filling their own vacancies; they have the 
charge of the financial concerns of the institution, the. 
choice of the president, professors, &c.; the third is a 
numerous body, composed of the executive and senate of 
the state for the time being, certain clergymen of 
Boston or the neighbouring towns, and some other 
gentlemen who have been elected into the body, — which 
consists of more than eighty members. They have a 
negative on the choice of all officers by the corporation; 
they form an honorary board, who have a right of 
revision, and may resort to it on extreme occasions; but 
they seldom take an active part in the concerns of the 
university. 

The immediate college government is composed of 
the president, who is also a member of both the other 
boards : he is not engaged in an}'^ branch of instruction, 
except when the person who fills the place is a clergy- 
man; — he occasionally preaches in the chapel, and says 
the morning and evening prayers. The professors are 
most of them married, and reside in their own houses; 
the tutors, regents, and proctors, have rooms in the 
college halls, where they can exercise a close watchful- 
ness over the students. Several of the professors, who 
are no otherwise engaged in the instruction, than by deli- 
vering an annual course of lectures, reside in the capital, 
and as the distance is only three miles, they can attend 
to their duty without inconvenience. The president 
has a house, and about 3000 dollars a year; — a part 4f 
the professors have houses furnished them, and their 
salaries are from five hundred to two thousand dollars. 



287 



The tutors have their rooms furnished them, and about 
800 dollars a year. The professors take the following 
branches, — theology, mathematics, and natural philoso- 
phy; oriental languages, anatomy, and surgery; theory 
and practice of medicine, materia medica, chemistry, 
natural history, rhetoric, and oratory; logic, metaphy- 
sics, and ethics; Latin, Greek, Greek literature, sacred 
literature, and jurisprudence; — on the application of the 
sciences to the arts — natural theology, moral philoso- 
phy, and civil polity; polite literature, and French and 
Spanish languages. In addition to these seventeen pro- 
fessors, which are here placed in the order in which the 
foundations were made, there are two or three tutors, 
librarian, French instructor, &.c. "J'he tirst professorship 
was that of theology; and professor of Hebrew was 
made before any of the sciences, except theology and 
mathematics. This is an indication of the original design 
of the establishment. 

The professors of Latin and Greek, of logic and meta- 
physics, do not give lectures, but only hear recitations. 
Many of the other professors only give lectures; some 
do both. The lectures connected with the medical 
department, are given at Cambridge, in a way to suit the 
purposes of those students who may wish to gain some 
general knowledge in those branches, without intending 
to devote themselves to the profession; — in the course 
of anatomy, therefore, oidy some very exquisite wax, 
and other preparations, arc made use of; — the same 
professors give a course of lectures annually at the 
Medical College in Boston, expressly to physicians and 
medical students. Attendance upon some of the courses 
is confined to the two upper classes, who pay no particu- 
lar fee to the professor, and other persons may attend 



288 



them on paying a small fee. Taking all these lectures 
together, I doubt whether any establishment in the 
world can boast of more ability, on the whole, than will 
be found here. Among the recent professorships, 
some of them are filled by men who were first sent 
abroad, at the expense of the institution, to visit different 
parts of Europe, to examine the various systems of 
teaching, and reside for a time at some of the principal 
universities, attend their courses of lectures, and bring 
home an experience of all their forms and instruction, 
that we might derive some improvement from them all. 

The revenues of the establishment, from* all sources, 
amount to more than ^30,000 a year. The property, 
besides seven edifices of brick, and one of stone, which 
contain a chapel, dining halls, libraries, lecture rooms, 
philosophical and chemical instruments, anatomical 
preparations, and lodging rooms, consists in dwelling 
houses for the instructors, and other estates in ditie- 
rent places. The library is a very valuable, though 
not very extensive one; it contains upwards of 26.000 
volumes, some of them books of the most rare de- 
scription. The philosophical apparatus is by far the 
most elegant in the United States, and in the branches 
of electricity and astronomy, contains many costly and 
beautiful instruments. J he chemical laboratory and 
apparatus is provided with all that is requisite for ex- 
periments, after the most recent improvements. The 
medical library and anatomical preparations are exten- 
sive. The botanic garden was formed with great care 
and expense. There is also a small, but chosen col- 
lection of minerals, a few pictures, chiefly portraits, 
&.C. &c. It must be recollected, that most of these 
things have been obtained very recently. The library 
itself is not more than sixty years old, since the ancient 






289 



library was unfortunately burnt in 1760. If the number 
of books could be doubled by a careful selection, laying 
aside the innumerable volumes that have been superse- 
ded by modern discoveries, this library would leave 
very few desiderata for the lovers of art or science. 

The studies comprise the English, Latin, and Greek 
languages, and Hebrew or French; one or both at the 
option of the student. History and the belles-lettres, 
and almost every branch of moral and physical science, 
are also taught to all the students. The instruction is 
all public, and there are no private tutors, except occa- 
sionally some individual is allowed to give lessons in 
the languages, &c. The students go through an annual 
examination. There are two or three exhibitions, and 
the annual commencement, when public exercises are 
assigned to the best scholars, the principal purpose of 
which is to keep up a spirit of emulation. Students 
may enter any of the classes if they can pass the requi- 
site examination, but they almost all enter freshmen; 
two or three perhaps in each class enter sophomores, 
and very rarely in a higher standing. It is considered 
more advantageous to go through the regular period of 
four years. At the end of this time they receive a 
degree of Bachelor of Arts, and ihree years afterwards, 
as a matter of course, if they apply for it, a degree of 
Master. The number of students is commonly about 
250. The resident graduates have increased of late 
years, and are now 60 or GO. The expense of an edu- 
cation at this seminary, for lodging and instruction, is 
about one thousand dollars for the whole term of four 
years. The private expenses will be according to the 
discretion of the parent or guardian. There are seve- 
ral little aids given to poor scholars, to assist them in 
their necessary disbursements. 



290 



There are some improvement3 to be made, whicU 
will tend to raise the charactei' and enlarge the utility 
of this establishment. One of these is to multiply the 
number of resident graduates. This will enlarge the 
society, and excite sympathy and emulation among 
young men whose minds are matured, and who can 
attend the lectures and pursue the particular studies 
they prefer, without the restrictions necessarily im- 
posed on under graduates. The standard of education 
will become higher, if the three years between the two 
degrees are devoted to a course of liberal study, to 
accomplishing the mind with general knowledge, before 
it is exclusively given up to one particular profession. 
The students in divinity and law, as well as all young 
men whose fortune prevents the necessity of their 
choosing a profession, would be greatly benefited by a 
studious residence here of two or three years. The 
students in medicine are more desirous of being in a 
large town, as their studies are so closely connected 
with practice. The greatest number of resident gra- 
duates at present are divinity students; — the law school 
is of recent foundation; but it will add very much to the 
character of young men, if they pass two or three years 
at Cambridge in the study of polite literature, philoso- 
phy, and the elementary parts of law, before they 
plunge into the narrow details of an attorney's practice. 

Another improvement would be, a strict examination 
of the students, before receiving their degrees, and 
malting honorary distinctions among them, according to 
their merits, as is done in the English universities. 
These distinctions should be designated in the catalogue. 
As it is, the dull and the negligent stand on the same 
line with the gifted and the studious. This would sti- 



291 



mulate all emulous minds to strive for this permanent 
mark of distinction. The officers of college now very 
justly complain, that in the last quarterofthe senior year 
the student is more listless, and profits less, than in any 
other part of his career. This measure would certain- 
ly change it into the most studious and attentive in the 
whole- period of a college life. 

A branch of instruction, which has been shamefully 
neglected, (the word, 1 own, is a harsh one,) has been 
oratory, — or rather, elocution. Every person who has 
attended a college exhibition, would see, with disgust, 
more than ihalf the exhibiters speak their parts in such 
a slovenly, awkward manner, as would not liave been 
tolerated in a village school. Mistaken notions are very 
prevalent on this subject, and because some of the ablest 
writers we possess, have the worst possible delivery, it 
is thought to be of no consequence. But how much 
greater, how much more effective, would the power of 
these speakers have been, if, to solid mental acquire- 
ments and a happy style, they had joined a graceful and 
impressive delivery. But it is said, that a theatrical 
flourish and display of gesture and elocution, would not 
be tolerated in the senate chamber, the pulpit, or the 
bar. Certainly they would not. A person does not 
learn to dance, to stand always in the first or second po- 
sition, or to move about in a room, in the step of a mi- 
nuet; — but dmcing, and the mechanical part of oratory, 
give a man the command of his powers, — make his 
movemenis supple and easy; — and dancing and declaim- 
ing are useful exercises, chiefly because they enable 
him who has practised them, to walk and speak with fa- 
cility. In this country, of all others, where the influ- 
ence of oratory is so important and so universal, it is 



292 

surprising such a pernicious neglect of it should be 
found. There is a professorship of rhetoric and ora- 
tory, — but its principal duties are the instruction in the 
former, in the formation of style and the theory of 
speaking. Elocution must be taught by a master for 
that particular purpose;— actors are generally the best. 
In France and England they are the persons by whom 
instruction is given to those who wish to accomplish 
themselves in the art of speaking and reading. I should 
have felt more reluctance in touching upon this subject, 
if a change was not about taking place. The art of 
speaking has been lately made a public exercise; — 
honours are awarded to those who excel, and a spirit of 
competition is created, that will ameliorate the manner 
of future orators. 

There is another regulation to be introduced, which 
some consider trifling, perhaps without sufficient reflec- 
tion. There is no country which has so utterly discarded 
all the influence that can be derived from dress, as the 
United States. We have gone much beyond the Qua- 
kers, — for their plainness, unvarying fashion, and limit- 
ed choice of colours, constitute a species of uniform, 
and keeps up a kind of starch pretension, very pre- 
servative in its tendency. But we have renounced all 
distinctions in dress; — the bushy wigs, the solemn and 
the gorgeous robes of other nations and of other times; 
and a clergyman, a deacon, or a layman, ajudge, an at- 
torney, or a witness, have, in most cases, no distinction 
of apparel. This has, to a certain extent, good conse- 
quences, — though most of the governments in the world 
would think, and probably think right, that they could 
not exist under such a disregard of externals. Still, in 
some cases, we find it necessary to adhere to old eus- , 



293 



\om?, antl the lessons of experience. The first step in 
mihtary organization, is a uniform ; botli discipline and 
the pride of situation are found to be essentially pro- 
moted by it. In most parts of Europe a uniform is 
found highly useful in all schools and colleges; — it would 
be attended with good eflfects if we were to return to it. 
I say return, because the giving it up was an innovation. 
The ancient academic dress, the black gown and square 
cap, were the original costume of the university. This 
simple, graceful dress, ought to be resumed; — and, as in 
the English schools and colleges, every instructor and 
student should he obliged to wear them at all times, ex- 
cept when going out of the town. This would give a 
uniformity and ennobling appearance, that would not 
fail of some moral influence; it would continually re- 
mind all the wearers of their situation, and would at 
least do away the present promiscuous, street-like ap- 
pearance among the students, where some have the as- 
pect of ridiculous dandies, and others of sorry appren- 
tices. With the resumption of this ancient dress, I 
would introduce (and thus would fiicilitate it) greater 
general neatness, and particularly in the aspect of the 
buildings and courts. It is one of the greatest charms 
of England, that all the public institutions, colleges, bar- 
racks, &.C. are kept with such exquisite order, cleanli- 
ness, and simple ornament. Something has been done 
of late, but much remains to be done. The exterior 
of most of the buildings have a shabby look; — they 
should be painted, — the lawns and paths about the edi- 
fices should be kept neatly trimmed and swept. This 
would have its effect on the tenants, and if they could 
be fixed on a taste for cleanliness and neatness in the ob- 
jects that surround them, to say nothing for their own 



294 

persons, the acquisition would not be the least useful 
that they could carry back and propagate, by their exam- 
ple, over different parts of the country. I am aware 
that these topics may appear trivial to some; — men who 
are deeply incrusted with collegiate learning, are apt 
to consider such things trifles; they serve, however, 
to decorate and give effect to solid things. I think in 
this, as in several other places, the counsel which Plato 
gave to Xenocrates, when he advised him to sacrifice to 
the Graces, might be usefully inculcated. 

With regard to discipline, the grand difficulty of our 
country in civil, military and collegiate life, this univer- 
sity has not been without its trials ; yet these have 
been less violent, and not more frequent, than have 
happened in other seminaries of the Union. The go- 
vernment generally is very lenient, but very firm ; if 
the courser chooses to take the bit between his teeth, 
and run aside, there is no curb to prevent him. They 
are governed principally by their good feelings, — not 
merely by the loss of college honours and advantages, 
but by their regard for their friends. If a student per- 
severes in a wrong course, the parentis written to, and 
he is made to conform, by the influence of parental au- 
thority. Rebellions occasionally happen, and summary 
punishments are inflicted, in the shape of fines, tempo- 
rary banishment, or total expulsion. These youths 
have always all their feathers erect on these occasions, 
and strut and crow for an hour or two; — in the mean 
time the public smile, — the government eliminate two 
or three of the most turbulent, and order is restored. 
These diminutive events are what the empress of Rus- 
sia, speaking of the troubles at Geneva, called " a storm 
in a wine-glass," On the whole, it is highlv honoura- 



295 



ble to the character of our youth ; — it proves their in- 
genuousness, and the good order of their homes, to find 
how great and well they behave under the slight restric- 
tions imposed upon them. When some persons lament 
that the system of discipline is not more rigid and se- 
vere, they do not sufficiently reflect on the nature of the 
government under which we live ; a state of freedom 
that presumes so much on the good conduct of the citi- 
zen. Young men are prepared for such a form of so- 
ciety, by the absence of all coarse restraint; — they are 
kept to their duty by principles of afl'ection and pro- 
priety; — they acquire the habit of self-government, and 
voluntary moderation. If they were restrained by high 
walls and grated windows, by vigilant watching, and un- 
derwent severe penances and personal punishments, 
they would be let out from such a place of education, 
very unprepared for the state of society in which they 
are to act. 

There is another point, on which some prejudice and 
misapprehension exist in the minds of the public. The 
religious doctrines that are taught in the theological 
department, have excited ill-will near home, and alarm 
at a distance, in some persons who have a bigoted 
hatred of every thing that does not accord with their 
creed. But little danger is to be apprehended for 
the general student on this account. He is not called 
upon to be a very great proficient in theology; and 
the college government preach and practise toleration. 
The sermons in the University Chapel are a series of 
lectures on the doctrines of Christianity. But there is 
an Episcopal church, where the students are allowed 
to go, if their parents should prefer it. Perhaps, for 
theological students, who are intended for the orthodox 



296 



career, the experiment of attending these lecture; 
might be dangerous, unless their principles and their 
conviction were very clear and steady; if they were 
so, even students of this kind might derive great benefit 
from some ©f the very able lectures on theology and 
sacred criticism, which they would have an opportunity 
of hearing. 

This institution, as has been already remarked, was 
originally founded for religious purposes; and clergy- 
men have always had a chief share in its management. 
For a long period it continued a nursery of Calvinistic 
teachers. When this faith, which for a series of years 
had been gradually relenting, at length lost its hold 
altogether in the minds of the congregational clergy in 
this vicinity, it was a matter of course, that the Uni- 
versity which was so much under their government, 
should come under the influence of what are called 
liberal opinions. The Calvinists repaired this defec* 
tion at once, with their accustomed energy and zeal; 
and established a theological college at Andover, and 
obtained twice as many students for their youthful 
establishment, as this university possessed in the theo- 
logical department, with all its learning and other 
advantages. 

The government of the university expressly protest 
against being considered as exclusively under the 
dominion of any sect. The object of the theological 
department, is to give general instruction in the doctrines 
of religion and of the truth and importance of Chris- 
tianity, but not in connexion with any particular creed, 
though the general tendency is undoubtedly Unitarian. 
They do not pretend to act as propagandists, nor can 
they with any great effect; since no two of these gen- 



297 



tlemen agree in all points of belief : there is no written 
creed, no platform established; the progress towards 
Unitarianism has been gradual; it has been openly 
avowed but by very few, till lately. There probably 
never can be any fixed system, when once the artificial, 
yet settled ground of orthodoxy is abandoned; people 
who commit themselves to the stream, are borne about 
by various currents and eddies of opinion, and it is very 
uncertain where they will land at last. They will be 
necessarily scattered. The liberal school is in its very 
nature innovating and fluctuating, and the question about 
believing too much or too little will never be decided. 
Such a school of divinity can never have a very wide 
spread; but it will doubtless be productive of great 
learning and ingenuity, and its liberality and courage 
will counteract the establishment of the most odious 
of all tyranny, the domination of a religious sect. 

The government is well aware, that it must act in a 
Catholic spirit to promote the interests committed to 
them. Many of the contributors to its funds are Epis- 
copalians, or others of the orthodox classes. The state, 
which has been a liberal patron, is tilled with different 
sects, who look to this seminary as a noble school for 
general learning, and not as devoted to the interests 
of any sect or party. The proportion of young men 
who resort to it for an education, who are destined for 
other professions than theology, has been steadily 
growing larger; and it is as a school, where every 
branch of literature and science will be cultivated and 
taught; in fine, as a university, that the public regard it, 
and by these considerations the views of those who 
govern it are and must be directed. 

Its emancipation from the control of a proselyting 
25* 



298 



sect, is certainly a subject of congratulation. Else, its 
wide capacity would be narrowed to the purposes of 
a religious party; it would then be a bed where no man 
could repose before his opinions were drawn out, or 
cut down, till they fitted. A professor could not then 
be chosen without a first regard to his religious creed, 
and a secondary one to his talents. The question 
would be, in such seminaries, not whether he was a first 
rate scholar, a man of profound science; but whether 
he was a Trinitarian or a Unitarian; whether he be- 
lieved in the infallibility of the Pope, or Calvin. For- 
tunately, this university stands on broader ground; it 
will possess always an able school of theological learn- 
ing and biblical criticism; and will, without doubt, con- 
tinue to furnish a succession of learned and pious cler- 
gymen; but its chief reputation will arise from its being 
a distinguished, fruitful repository of all good learning. 



LETTER XV. 

The T oxen of Boston. 

My dear Friend, 

You asked me to give you a description of Boston 
and of its inhabitants; a place which you have never 
yet visited, though it is but little more than eight 
hundred miles from your own residence, and people of 
both sexes, and of all ages, come a much greater 
distance every summer to leave their cards. A few 
hundred miles, which would carry a traveller out of the 
limits of some empires, can hardly be remarked on the 



299 

extensive map of our country; which, if colossal size 
were the only measure of greatness, it would find few 
competitors to look it in the face, even by standing tip- 
toe, — but as it is, we too often find it productive of 
inconvenience, and when it separates friends so far, we 
wish its limits were more restricted; — however, as it is 
daily enlarging, not, I trust, " like the circle in the 
water," we may as well cease our regrets on this point. 
Perhaps my description may induce you to come, though 
i might be led into great exaggerations if 1 thought so; 
but as I fear you will never gratify the friends who 
would give you such cordial welcome, I shall try to 
make out a plain matter of fact account. I am willing, 
however, to caution you against my j)artiulity, and that 
this sketch should be received as coming from a native 
Cockney. 

Boston is situated at the bottom of Massachusetts baj^ 
on a capacious and excellent harbour, distant from the 
sea about ten miles, from whose waves it is sheltered by 
a groupe of islands, of various sizes and appearance. 
Three small rivers, the Charles, Mystic, and Nepouset, 
navigable for only five or six miles, empty into these wa- 
terS; and the first washes the town on the north and west. 
The town itself, and two of its suburbs, Charlestown 
and South Boston, stand on three peninsulas, which form 
the western, northern, and southern sides of the inner 
harbour. The neck of each of these peninsulas is low 
and narrow, over which the tide formerly flowed. 
Each of these districts, which collectively contain less 
than three thousand acres, is variegated in its surface 
with gentle slopes and hills of moderate height. The 
surrounding country exhibits a variegated appearance; 
•smooth meadows, gently swelling hills, and small valleys. 



300 



presenting undulating lines of the most pleasing variety, 
covered with villages, country seats, farm-houses, or- 
chards, groves, and a cultivation that gives a smiling 
aspect to the whole landscape. 

There are no sublime features in this scenery, except 
the view of the ocean, which is obtained from almost 
every rising ground ; but all the traits of beauty are 
profusely scattered. There are no majestic mountains, 
no fearful precipices; the highest land is called the Blue 
Hills, about eight miles south from the town, which rise 
between seven and eight hundred feet. A striking 
circumstance in the topography of this district, is the 
endless number and variety of pleasing views it offers. 
The tide flows around these islands, peninsulas, and 
points of land, forming so many little straits and coves, 
and running up these small rivers and creeks, in such a 
serpentine course, that the land and water are every 
where blended together : in addition, there are several 
fine brooks, and many beautiful ponds of fresh water, 
which makes it almost impossible to find a view that is 
not embellished by some -sheet of water. The town 
itself, which is visible from the neighbouring eminences 
for many miles in every direction, comes in to give rich- 
ness to the scene. The surface on which it is built is so 
irregular; there are so many steeples and turrets; the 
varied colour of its dwellings reflected and contrasted by 
the smooth surface of the water, that almost encircles 
it; the sort of coquettish negligence with which it seems 
flung over its hills for display; all combine to make its 
exterior more imposing and picturesque than any other 
city in the Uniion, though it is but the fourth in magni- 
tude. To point out all the beautiful views would be 
in vain; where every little eminence you ascend, and 
almost every turn you take, offers a new picture. 



301 



Several country seats are so placed as to command 
delightful prospects. It would form a long list to enu- 
merate them all; but I will answer for it, that any of 
your friends who will bring letters from you, will find 
a ready access to them. I will only mention three 
views which are on the highway, and are very different, 
and all possessing, in a very high degree, grandeur and 
beauty. The first is on a hill, about six miles from 
town, over which the Concord turnpike passes; the 
next is on Milton-hill, about the same distance; and the 
third is on a hill in Maiden, over which the Newbury 
turnpike passess about a mile from the bridge. A 
great deal of the effect in landscape, as well as in paint- 
ings, depends on the manner in which the light ie 
thrown; in these three that I have mentioned, the most 
favourable moments for seeing them are an hour or two 
before sunset. You may conclude, that these environs 
must possess remarkable beauty, when it has been ob- 
served, by more than one intelligent foreigner, whose 
opinions must be free from local partiality, that, Na- 
ples excepted, there is no spot in Europe can equal it. 

Nor does this scenery depend on its natural beauties 
alone to give pleasure. There are many delighiiul 
places in our country, that have no other charm but 
their own loveliness to attract the spectator; and being 
wholly unconnected with any historical events, create no 
associations that occupy the mind. But it is far other- 
wise here. Independently of many events in early 
history, the American Revolution alone has immor- 
talized the spot. Here first began, in words and writing, 
resistance to oppression, and here that resistance was 
first sealed in blood. Every hill, every point of land 
around the town^ is still crowned with the first breast- 



302 



works of the Revolution. Lexington and Bunker-hill 
are parts of the landscape. It is the classic ground of 
American patriotism and valour, and the interest it ex- 
cites must increase with all succeeding ages. 

On entering the town, the traveller does not find its 
interior equal to the expectations he will have enter- 
tained from its appearance at a distance. It is very 
irregular; many of the streets are narrow and winding. 
It has more the aspect of an European town than any 
other city in America. The buildings are, many of 
them, of wood, but some of these are neat and even 
elegant, from being neatly painted, and from their style 
of architecture. Buildings of this material, more than 
ten feet high, have been prohibited by law for some 
years; of course their number is decreasing by fires 
and decay. This salutary law was not passed till the 
town had suffered repeatedly from extensive conflagra- 
tions. The greatest number of buildings are now of 
brick. Of late years it has become the practice to 
build with stone, and there are several public and pri- 
vate edifices of this material. The stone employed is a 
fine light-coloured granite, which is found at Chelmsford, 
on the Middlesex canal, about twenty miles distant. 
Many of the houses have gardens attached to them, and 
a small piece of grass in front, with an open railing. 
This relieves the narrowness of the streets; and the 
number of trees break up the dull masses of brick 
very agreeably. Some of the modern streets arc 
straight and sufficiently spacious. There are many 
large and elegant houses scattered in different parts. 
As the streets are not on a flat plain, but run over the 
hills, they present some picturesque views. The com- 
mercial part of the town has a better appearance, anfl 



303 



is more convenient than in any of our cities: there are 
three noble wharves parallel to each other, \vith rows 
of warehouses their whole length, having spacious 
open docks for the vessels to unload, with every ac- 
commodation. Two of these wharves, all their buildings, 
and some adjoining streets, were produced by one 
individual,* who has done more to improve the town 
than any other fifty men it ever possessed. 

The town is, generally speaking, very clean, and three 
orfour of the streets may be called beautiful. Forty years 
ago it had but one entrance; since then, four bridges, 
from five to eight hundred yards in length, have been 
constructed, and a solid causeway, of more than a mile 
and a half, is now making, which will open a noble 
approach to the finest part of the town. Its handsomest 
feature is the common, and the wall which surrounds 
it. — This is a charming piece of ground nearly a mile 
in circumference; it has fine houses, two churches, and 
the State-house, on four of its sides, and on the fifth, an 
extensive bay of Charles' River, bounded by an amphi- 
theatre of hills, forming an exquisite prospect. On 
the side of the town next the harbour there is an emi- 
nence, called Fort-hill, on which there is a pretty circu- 
lar walk, commanding a view of the harbour, the ship- 
ping, and the islands. But the great ornament and boast 
of the town, is the common before mentioned; this is su- 
perior to any other walk in the United States, and there 
are few in any part of the world for which less has 
been done by art, or more by nature. 

The site on which Boston was built, was called, by the 
Indians, Shawmut. It was first called, by the whites, 



Triah Cotting, Esq. since dcceaseJ. 



304 



Tremont, or Trimount, from the predominance of three 
conspicuous hills ; afterwards called Boston, from a 
clergyman of that name, much respected by some of 
the tirst settlers, and who was expected to become their 
pastor, but he never came over. The founder of Boston 
was Mr Johnstone, a Lincolnshire gentleman, who 
resided with his wife, the Lady Arabella, daughter of the 
Earl of Lincoln, somewhere in the street now called 
Tremont-Street, and was buried in the chapel burying- 
ground, in which he was the first person buried. Our 
antiquities are merely degrees of infancy compared with 
the cities of Europe, while in respect to some of the towns 
that sprung up last year, or last week, in various parts 
of the Union, they claim a most venerable seniority. 
Owing to the early habit of constructing with wood, there 
are a few buildings more than a century old, and not 
many even of that age. The oldest is a dwelling house 
m Tremont-Street, built by the celebrated Sir Henry 
Vane, about 160 years since, and this is probably the 
most ancient dwelling in the United States; it has been 
modernized, but is still a substantial, handsome house. 

From its central position, in regard to an extensive 
sea-coast, on which the first settlements were made, 
Boston soon grew to be a place of some note, and 
gradually became the largest town in all the colonies; 
and it continued to be so nearly to the period of the 
Revolution. It was the centre of the fisheries and of 
ship-building, the main sources of its prosperity, up to 
the epoch of our present government. The lucrative 
commerce which has been carried on for the last thirty 
years, has produced an immense accession of wealth to 
the town, as well as the neighbouring country. Of its 
former sources of wealth, the building of vessels and 



305 



Uie lishcries, tlie tlrst 13 diminished really, and the 
latter relatively. Its foreign commerce, and the mart it 
has become for home manufactures, are now the chief 
sources of its wealth. 

The population was, for a long time, the highest of any 
town on the continent : — New- York, Philadelphia, and 
Baltimore, now greatly surpass it. But in the returns of 
the population, there are some circumstances that should 
be borne in mind, to form a just estimate of the relative 
resources of these places. Boston is limited to a very 
narrow territory; its proper suburbs belong to other 
places. It has numerous towns in its vicinity, many of 
them older than itself, and all of which hare had a 
steady, gradual increase. The other cities incorporate 
a large territory, and there are few towns, or even 
villages, in their vicinity. Boston contains only 40,000 
people; New-York and Philadelphia three times that 
number; but if the population within a square of thirty 
miles, including Boston, be counted, all of which has its 
centre of business in that place, and with which a very 
active daily intercourse is kept up, it would probably be 
nearly equal to that of any similar extent in the United 
States. 

Its importance, however, was only in part owing to its 
trade, or the amount of its population. It was the 
character of that population from the beginning which 
excited the respect of its neighbours, and m^de it the 
capital of opinion, as well as commerce, to all New-Eng- 
land. The early establishment of Harvard College; the 
general diffusion of education; the high religious feel- 
ing which pervaded the community, and the learned 
clergymen who made this place the focus of that feeling; 
the stern spirit of independence ; the unrelenting 
26 



306 



vratchfulness over their political rights; the great ability 
and rigid virtue of the early magistrates; the elevation 
of mind, which made them esteem all other considera- 
tions subordinate to the maintenance of their religious 
freedom and their political rights, were among the cir- 
cumstances which contributed essentially to the respec- 
tability of this capital. 

This kind of character, followed by the influence it 
would naturally command, was steadily maintained, with 
some diminution of austerity, perhaps, in religion, in 
the last generation ; but the whole amount was not 
lessened, for an additional portion of severe vigilance 
was given to politics. The consequences were shown 
in the period between 1760 and 1776. When the 
coercive scheme of finance, that produced our eman- 
cipation, was attempted to be put into execution, its first 
approaches, its most indirect and concealed attempts, 
were here first met and unmasked. A discussion has 
arisen in the United States about who first proposed 
the Revolution ; — this is a mere question of curiosity, 
the solution of which is almost as easy as to tell which 
portion of water, in an impetuous stream, came out of a 
particular fountain. The current of public opinion 
arose imperceptibly, — it increased gradually, — was 
swollen by a thousand rivulets, and fed at once from 
sources beneath, and with drops from heaven. Boston 
was first called upon to act and suffer; — the first was 
performed with energy, — the last with firmness. The 
British ministry, though they had not contemplated the 
end of their measures with accuracy, knew where to 
begin. They laid their whole weight of power on this 
devoted town, in the first instance. Its skilful and he- 
roic resistance, from the first insinuation of an arbitrary 



307 



principle in a governor's speech, to the defiance and 
defeat of naval and militnry forces, excited the sympa- 
thy, and gave time for the whole country to prepare for 
the explosion of a general contest. Their conduct ex- 
cited so much the attention of the world at the time, 
that Boston was only talked of, as if the whole effort at 
resistance was made by them; — and Americans were 
then, in France, often called Bostonians, the term by 
which they are designated in Canada to this day.* 

It is natural that the citizens of a town, whose hall 
for public meetings has been called " the cradle of the 
Revolution,'' whose name is associated with so many 
great events, and so honourably enrolled in history, 
should feel a pride in belonging to it. This is cherish- 
ed by the nature of their institutions, which are highly 
remarkable. This town (for it is not a city) is, per- 
haps, the most perfect, and certainly the best regulated 
democracy that ever existed. There is something so 
imposing in the immortal fame of Athens, that the very 
name makes every thing modern shrink from compari- 
son ; but since the days of that glorious city, I know of 
none that has approached so near, in a few points dis- 
tant as it may still be, from that illustrious model. The 
cities of Italy, in the middle ages, the Hanse towns, Ge- 

* A game of cards was invented at Versailles, and called, in ho- 
nour of the town, Boston ; the points of the game are allusive, — 
great independence, little independence, great misery, little misery, fyc. 
It was composed partly of v\histi and partly of quadrille, though 
partaking most of the former. As it is almost unknown in th's 
country, it may be of use to persons who amuse themselves in this 
way, to know, that this is the most interesting game that is played. 
It issiill partially in use in France, but in every circle in the north 
of Europe, from Amsterdam to St.Petersburgh, Boston is now almot' 
the exclusive game. 



308 



neva, and others, were called republics; — but they have 
been under the government of an aristocracy, or in a 
state of anarchy. Boston has never, like these, pos- 
sessed sovereign power; but it has essentially contri- 
buted to the establishment of the noblest sovereignty in 
the world, and has generally possessed a wider influence 
than these puny states. It cannot yet boast of the mag- 
nificence of Athens, or even of some of the modern 
cities, — but it is not yet two centuries old, and in a 
country no older than itself; — but if its citizens do not 
become recreant, — if its future manhood should not be- 
lie the promises of youth, — when time shall have swept 
over it as many ages as it has over the Acropolis, the re- 
collections it will leave will not be inferior. Let me 
return, however, from these excursions into the past 
and the future, to consider only the present. 

This place now contains a population of 40,000. It 
is, and always has been, a simple, pure, unmixed demo- 
cracy, but without any sovereign power, forming part 
of the state, of which it is the capital. All its officers 
are annually chosen, and all its concerns, financial as 
well as others, are acted upon by the whole people, in 
public town-meeting. Every inhabitant has a right to 
vote and speak on all subjects, — and this right is exer- 
cised by individuals of every class. The choice of offi- 
cers, and other town affairs, takes place on certain fixed 
days, every year. But public town meetings are held, 
from time to time, on various subjects of general con- 
cern ; and the selectmen, who are charged with the 
government of the town, must call one whenever a rfe- 
quisition for the purpose is signed by a certain number 
of citizens. These selectmen answer to a court of al- 
dermen, but there is no officer corresponding to a mayor. 



309 



These municipal officers, excepting the chairman, wlio 
has a small salary, have no pay, no particular costume, 
and no guards of any kind, except, on public meetings, 
there are one or two constables in attendance, who 
serve as messengers, &.c. 

These public assemblies are called for various pur- 
poses, — frequently for political ones, in times of agita- 
tion, when public measures are discussed, and resolu- 
tions passed, according to the will of the majority. 
Public notice is given some days previously, — the se- 
lectmen are obliged to be in attendance, but the per- 
son who is to preside over the meetings is taken from 
among the citizens; any person has a right to nominate, 
and the choice is immediately decided by a hand vote. 
The person chosen takes the chair, is called a modera- 
tor, and has no other protection for his authority, than 
what the good sense of the citizens always accords to 
his discretion and impartiality. The parliamentary form 
©f addressing the chair, and not the body of the assem- 
bly, is adhered to, and this is a great restraint on the 
passions, both of the speaker and the hearers. The 
speaking is not confined to professional men, or to the 
richer classes, but people in every walk of life may, 
and do, take a part. A sturdy demagogue will some- 
times obstinately hold his way in these debates, to the 
annoyance or the amusement of the meeting, but gene- 
rally they are men of ability who attempt to harangue. 
Such assemblies must furnish a good school for popular 
oratory, and excellent speakers have been, from time 
to time, produced by them. The most perfect order 
reigns in these primary assemblies; — it is rare, indeed, 
that any indecorum, either of word or gesture, is offered, 

and if it should happen, is sure to meet with general 

2G* 



310 



reprobation. I have been present at these meetings, 
when from three to four thousand people were assem- 
bled, among whom a strong personal excitement existed 
in regard to the question at issue, and although the as- 
sembly was nearly equally divided, yet the subject was 
discussed with less violence, and more quiet in the au- 
dience, than I have seen in many debates in the British 
House of Commons. Habit, a self-respect, from the 
consciousness of freedom, and the degree of general 
information that prevails among the people, combine to 
produce this remarkable order and good conduct, which 
are strongly shown on the days of election. The an- 
nual election of the governor of the state is, generally, a 
close struggle, when parties run high, which they have 
done for the last thirty years. Every kind of effort, in 
speaking and writing, is made use of for some weeks 
before, to rouse the electors in favour of their respec- 
tive candidates. The whole mass sometimes take a live- 
ly interest in the event, and yet, on the day of election, 
near six thousand ballots are given in Faneuil Hall, be- 
tween the hours of nine and three o'clock ; — every in- 
dividual, as he hands in his vote to the selectmen, is 
checked by a committee, composed of the opposite par- 
ties; — no instance has been known of the slightest hust- 
ling, disorder, or riot of any kind, — and the ordinary 
business of the citizens is uninterrupted. A stranger, 
who wants to understand our character, should attend 
^ome of these assemblies. 

Among the public institutions, there are two which 
deserve particular notice. The first is a military com- 
pany, which was incorporated in the commencement of 
the colony, to form a school for officers; — but religion* 
feelings were strongly united with military ones in its 



311 



establishment. It now contains between one and two 
hundred members, who are, or have been, almost every 
one of them, officers, either in the regular service or in 
the militia ; — of course, among the privates, are gene- 
rals, colonels, kc. The original intention was, that this 
should be a school for military discipline and instruc- 
tion, — and that they should keep in mind their duty to 
religion, so as to form a corps of Christian soldiers. 
For this purpose, their anniversary was publicly cele- 
brated, — the governor, and other persons in civil au- 
thority, attending it, and going in procession to a church, 
wjiere an appropriate sermon is preached to them on 
the joint duties of the Christian and the soldier. After 
this annual sermon, they haye a dinner in Faneuil Hall, 
to which a large number of guests are invited; — and in 
the afternoon, the company escort the governor to the 
Common, where he receives the insignia of the officers 
for the past year, and confers them on those who have 
been elected to their places. A short speech is m.ide 
on giving and receiving these commissions. This com- 
pany is now on a respectable footing, but perhaps more 
might be made of it. 'J'heir anniversary, however, af- 
fords one of the prettiest fetes we have. It is called 
the Artillery Election, and takes place in the month of 
June, — and on this occasion, eight or ten thousand 
people are collected, to see the ceremonies in the Com- 
mon. In this, as in many other cases, the spectators 
themselves afford the most pleasing spectacle. 

The annual visitation of the schools is another cere- 
mony that is worthy of notice. The care of the public 
schools is given to a few gentlemen, annually elected, 
who are called the school committee ; — they, with the 
selectmen, have the charge of all that relates to public 



312 



instruction. There is a yearly visitation of all these 
schools by the school committee and selectmen, accom- 
panied by the clergy, some of the principal citizens, 
strangers of distinction, &,c. who are invited on this oc- 
casion. After the examination is gone through, all the 
boys who have distinguished themselves in the different 
schools, with their masters, join the procession, and the 
whole company partake of a handsome dinner in Faneuil 
Hall. The appearance of this company is peculiar; — 
these children, their countenances glowing with the dis- 
tinction they have acquired, are here seated at a public 
feast, with the most venerable and dignified citizens of 
the town. They are here introduced, for the first time, 
into the hall, where their fathers maintained the rights 
of their country, and which they may hereafter be call- 
ed on to support. After the cloth is removed, the chil- 
dren place themselves as they please, and are scattered 
about the hall in various groupes, while the company are 
listening to songs, and drinking toasts, enjoying, with a 
moderate hilarity, a festival, in which all the finest feel- 
ings of the parent and the citizen are deeply interested. 
This mixture of infancy and age, this public honour paid 
to education, this stimulating reward to childish merit, 
the sparkling pleasure of the young, and the mild satis- 
faction of the aged, — the introduction of these boys into 
the public forum, where they are hereafter to discharge 
their duty as citizens, presents, altogether, one of the 
most pleasing, and certainly the most republican festival 
I ever witnessed. 

The town is not deficient in the means of amuse- 
ment. Those of a quiet intellectual kind, are the most 
numerous. Libraries and reading-rooms are of this 
description. There are one or two of the latter near 



313 

the Exchange, where all the principal newspapers ol 
the continent are filed, and where all commercial in- 
telligence is regularly entered. There are several 
book-stores, which are well supplied with a miscel- 
laneous collection, and are places of call for literary 
loungers. There are several public libraries, which, 
though not extensive, are the foundations that ma}' gup- 
port goodl}' superstructures; each of the professions, 
law, medicine, and divinity, have one. But the chief 
establishment is the Atheneum. This is already a 
considerable institution, and wants little noAv, except a 
suitable building, to develope its utility. It has a library 
of about 12,000 volumes, many of them elegant and 
valuable books; these are not allowed to be taken away, 
but the rooui is always open for their perusal. Aa 
apartment below contains all the chief periodical works 
of the United States and of Great Britain; all the prin- 
cipal newspapers of both countrie's, and most of the 
pamphlets and new books of our own country. Occa- 
sionally there are some German and French journals, 
but they are not received regularly. — In the same 
rooms are very complete series of all the American 
periodical works, and also of some French and English 
journals from their first establishment. A good build- 
ing, and a small increase of funds for the purchase of 
new publications, and the principal periodical works of 
the continent of Europe, would make it very perfect. 
Persons of a literary taste have, from time to time, an 
opportunity of hearing public lectures : the medical 
courses are regularly delivered at the medical college, 
and occasionally there are courses on other sciences, 
chemistry and botany, &.C. There are also several lite- 
rary clubs, where the chief pleasure is conversation, 



314 I 



though some written Jissertation is the duty of each 
member in turn : a stranger, with suitable introduction, 
may easily have access to all these places. 

There is a theatre open three times a week, from 
October to May, in which the performances, taken 
generally, are equal, if not superior, to the best English 
provincial theatres. There is a circus for equestrian 
performances, singing, &.c. — We have public balls, and 
public concerts, at intervals; they were formerly kept 
up regularly, but as the society grew larger, they were 
attended with inconveniences. You may recollect an 
impromptu of a celebrated Scotch wit, Harry Erskine, 
to the Dutchess of Gordon, who told him, " that she 
*' would not go to the races; she thought they would be 
" dull, and there would be nothing worth seeing : 

" Not go, — that is, as if the sun should say, 

" It's a cold cloudy morn ; I will not rise to-day." 

Well, SO it was here; those who formed the sunshine of 
these parties shrunk back, and the clouds would not 
assemble unless they were illuminated. We now have 
these public parties only on particular occasions; but the 
private ones are the more numerous in consequence. 

A stranger who comes properly introduced, (and the 
error here is on the side of facility, rather than strict- 
ness,) may pass his time very pleasantly. He must not 
look, however, for the licentious and abandoned pleasures 
of great capitals; our resources in this way are fortu- 
nately inferior to what may be found in many cities of 
the same size. But if he has a robust constitution, 
and can bear the good dinners and excellent wines that 
will be offered him; if he has a taste for easy, social 
intercourse, great simplicity of manners, to the almost 
entire exclusion of what is mere etiquette; if he it 



315 



fond of cards, and can be satisfied with a party at whist 
without high play; if he has a taste for literary or scien- 
tific discussion; in short, if he is fond of rational and 
moderate enjoyments, and a pervading domestic tone of 
life, he may certainly be gratified. 

Our population is very little mixed; it is native of 
the spot, or transferred from various parts of the eastern 
states, whose origin was similar. It has grown so gradu- 
ally, that the inhabitants are more known to each other; 
and aided by the peculiar form of government, their 
mutual dependence is more intimately felt than in most 
towns. This prevents the wealthy from being arro- 
gant, and the poor from being turbulent. There is 
hardly any such thing as mere populace in the town. 
It is not a manufacturing town, and is therefore without 
the kinds of crowds that such towns exhibit. It is, 
however, a great depot for manufactures, produced in 
its vicinity, and the sale of these, and an extensive fo- 
reign and domestic trade, furnish the chief employment 
to the inhabitants. It is an orderly, quiet place, which 
effect is produced more by the character of the people 
than by the vigour of the police, of which there is very 
little. There are two or three festival days in the 
course of the year, when there are military parades, 
and a great concourse of people are collected; yet there 
is no riot, no disorder; even drunkenness is rarely seen, 
and the streets are as quiet on the evening of such a 
day, as on any other. A very great improvement has 
taken place in these respects within the period of the 
present generation. 

There is a great deal of wealth in this community; 
most of it is employed in commerce, but much of it is 
io the hands of people who do not engage very actively 



316 



in trade; though as bankers, insurers, or adventurers ih 
distant voyages, they take some share in business, 
merely as an occupation, and to have an excuse for 
going to the Exchange, that they may talk over the 
various news of the day. There are some individuals 
who have colossal fortunes; there are many who have 
liberal ones ; and a still greater number, who obtain, 
from diiferent pursuits, an easy, moderate competence. 
There is very little ostentation, and no extravagant 
display of luxury. The richest men are not those who 
spend the most; their scale of expense does not exceed 
what men of moderate fortune may reach, by whom 
indeed they are often surpassed. It often happens, in 
every part of the world, that the owners of great wealth 
seem to have undergone some mental process, by which 
they become as secure keepers of it as the guards of 
the seraglio are of what is intrusted to them. Here, 
however, these moderate habits may have a fortunate 
tendency; it keeps down luxury, and a spirit of rivalry 
in expense, that would be followed with the most dele- 
terious consequences both to individuals and to society. 

There is a large number of persons who have had a 
liberal education; and who, amidst all the occupation of 
professional or commercial business, still retain some 
tincture of it. Every man enrolls himself with some 
particular class, because there are none who are willing 
to be put down with the hog, described by Dr. Frank- 
lin's negro, — he no work — he eat — he drink — he sleep — he. 
walk about— he lib like a gentleman. There are many 
young men possessed of competence, who go into a count- 
ing-house, or to some professional study, even without 
engaging actively in the profession they have acquired. 
The greatest number of these study the law, and are 



317 



aduntLed to the bar,but never practise to any extent. Tliev 
correspond in some respects to the class of men which' 
existed in France, before the Revolution, called Abbes; 
and bear the same proportion to an active lawyer, that 
an abbe did to a priest. It is, however, in the one case as 
the other, a condition : they are in the way of prefer- 
ment, amusing their minds, in the mean time, with litera- 
ture or other pursuits. 

The people of this town are great travellers; it would 
be difficult to tind a society of half a dozen of the class 
who change their linen every day, in which some, if not 
most of (he party, have not visited Europe. Commer- 
cial pursuits have led a great many; almost every body 
has been to England. The natural desire, in liberal and 
intelligent minds, of seeing Europe, of which, from 
their infancy, they have heard so much, inspires a rest- 
less, enlightened curiosity, to visit regions so famous. 
Nor is this confined to men alone, but both sexes have 
enjoyed the advantage of travelling in an unusual de- 
gree. You might find a large circle of both sexes, who 
have not only seen London and Paris, but Rome and 
Naples. Of late years, some of our young m?n have 
travelled with the most liberal views, and under the 
greatest advantages, and we have a small number of 
these who have not stopped with Italy, but have been 
on a classic pilgrimage to Greece. If no other good is 
produced, the subjects of conversation in society are 
thus rendered more amusing and instructive. 

One result of so much travelling, has been to diffuse 
a taste for the arts. The encouragement they receive 
is not indeed splendid, but it is progrc.-^sive. We 
have produced soaie artists of emintnce, and for seve- 
ral years have had one or two residing here constantly. 



318 



There are some small collections of pictures belonging 
to individuals, which are at least equal to the average of 
collections. There is too a right feeling on this score; 
we rather seek to reward a living artist, than to give an 
extravagant price for old pictures. Most of our gentle- 
men feel a pride in having some works ofour own artists 
hanging in their parlours; every new performance aids in 
the diffusion of refinement. In the other arts, we have 
hardly any thing to show. In architecture we have little to 
offer; but some dawnings of better things are appearing. 
In sculpture, we have nothing but here and there a bust. 
This art will be awakened among us, when we think 
we are rich enough to erect monuments or cenotaphs to 
departed greatness. For music, we have more fondness 
than skill; our musicians and actors are all foreigners; 
our young men seldom play on any instrument, and 
though no one would wish to see them 3. race of fid- 
dlers, yet the practice of music would fill up many hours 
innocently, that are now spent in vicious or stupifying 
indolence. Sacred music, from the universal habit of 
attending public worship, is a good deal cultivated, but 
too generally in a bad taste; there are two or three 
musical societies, who have regular meetings for vocal 
and instrumental music. As every man now-a-days 
wears a watch, whatever may be the value of his time, 
and every lady a parasol, whatever may be the shade of 
her complexion; so every house has a piano, whether 
the owner is, or is not, one of those, " who can tell the 
tuning from the overture." There is generally musi- 
cal talent enough in every circle to promote conversa- 
tion at a tea-party; and there is seldom a summer's 
night that is without a serenade. 

Perhaps I have said enough to show you that there 



319 



is much activity, enterprise and intelligence in this 
community; that it exhibits what is the best result, and 
surest support of liberty, self-respect; that keeps them 
equally from offering or sutTering violence, a deference 
to public opinion, and a disposition to maintain law and 
order. A more peculiar and unmixed character, arising 
from its homogeneous population, will be found here than 
in any other city in the United States. There is none of 
the show and attractions of ostentatious and expensive 
luxury; but a great deal of cheerful, frank hospitality, 
and easy, social intercourse. In short, if a man can limit 
his wishes to living in a beautiful country, among a hos- 
pitable people, where he will find only simple unobtru- 
sive pleasures, with a high degree of moral and intel- 
lectual refinement, he may here be gratified. 



LETTER XVI. 

Genius, Character, and Maimers of the Inhabitants 
of Boston. 

My DEAR Friend, 

The features of national character seem almost 
as marked as those of particular species of the human 
race; and the long period through which they may be 
discovered, under various accidents and changes of 
fortune, as well as government, is, on first observation at 
least, a subject of surprise. We may remark, in some 
families, a predominance of good or bad qualities, a 
series of virtuous or vicious conduct, for successive 
generations. That nations exhibit a peculiar bias 



320 



throughout their whole career, is certainly evident 
from history. Though this may be thwarted or interrupt- 
ed occasionally, even so as to disappear for a time, it 
will be found, on a general view of their whole policy, 
never to have been destroyed, but its effects may be 
traced through the entire era of their existence. The 
Jews, who are altogether an exclusive people, furnish an 
extreme case. The Romans commenced their career 
as robbers, and when they rose from their petty villany 
of a single murder, to the splendid heroism of slaughter- 
ing millions, they continued the same policy, enlarged from 
the plunder of a neighbouring village, to the aggrandize- 
ment of their empire, by the subjection (>f kingdoms. 
The Greeks, wiio invented or improved all the arts and 
sciences, directed their chief emulation to these, through 
all their vicissitudes; and down to the exiinciion of their 
nation by the Turks, preserved many remains of this 
illuminating spirit, when ail the rest of the world was 
involved in darkness. Among modern nations, the 
French are supposed to have many of the characteris- 
tics which they had in the days of Julian ; and as to 
the Spaniards, we have it from Count Oxeastiern, that 
when Adam was permitted to revisil the world, he found 
every thing altered and new, till he came to Spain; 
when he at once exclaimed, " Ah ! this 1 know; every 
thing is here just as I left it." 1 he English have 
been remarkable, through many ages, for their submis- 
sion to the authority of fashion in dress, and their un- 
yielding adherence to the principles of civil liberty. 
The Germans unite a gravity of temperament with a 
mystical frivolity ; their passions seem seated in their 
brain, and strike out into strange vagaries of fancy; 
while those of the Italians ilow through all the chan- 



32i 



nels of the blood, beat with its pulse, and are profound 
and true to nature. 

I have made these remarks by way of introduction 
to some sketches of the genius, character, and manners 
of the people in this section of the Union; because I 
think these partake strongly of their origin, and cannot 
be well understood without keeping that in view. We 
have not quite completed two centuries since the first 
bark of our forefathers anchored under the wintry 
shores of Plymouth; and two centuries, we may hope, 
will form only a small part of our national existence. 
The period is not long enough to predict what will be 
our character in after ages, when time shall have 
exposed it to all the successive temptations of adversity 
and prosperity; when all the accidents of fortune, and 
the progress of luxury, shall have been tried to change 
or corrupt it. Yet, as far as we have proceeded, it has 
not become unworthy of its origin, or essentially diffe- 
rent from its first principles. The impetus originally 
given, still remains moditied, but not eradicated. There 
is something less of exterior roughness; but this only 
makes the inherent traits more distinct, as a surface of 
marble exhibits its views more clearly when polished, 
than in a rude state : to superficial observers the former 
is rendered less, while the latter is made more obvious. 

The men who planted this division of the United States 
came from the most virtuous part of the English nation. 
They carried their severe notions of religious purity to 
a degree of austerity; and their assertion of civil and 
political liberty, to the dreadful alternative of a civil 
war. They were part of that body of men which 
brought a faithless sovereign to the scaffold, and raised 
their country to that glorious pitch of power and 



322 



prosperity, which she enjoyed during the early part of 
the commonwealth. Some even of the chief actors in 
these scenes came to this country from choice, and 
others to escape from proscription. All the founders of 
these colonies were the inveterate enemies of the 
perfidious despotism of the Stuarts, and stern seceders 
from the arrogant sway of the English prelates and 
Scotch presbyters. A large proportion of them were of 
the condition of gentlemen, and their followers were all 
virtuous, substantial yeomen. A striking and indis- 
putable inference has been drawn, from the comparative 
purity of our language, respecting the class of people 
who settled the country. They came from various 
counties of England, in some of which a jargon scarcely 
intelligible is spoken to this day b}' the lower sorts of 
the people. But, among our forefathers, if there were 
any of this description, there never were enough to keep 
up this corrupt dialect; and even the provincialisms that 
were retained or generated here, are very few in 
number. This test of language is one of the strongest 
that can be adduced; and in this instance supports well- 
known historical facts. 

Their first object in seeking a new world, was to en- 
joy freedom in religion; the next, to obtain civil and po- 
litical liberty. They came exposed to every hardship, 
and manfully encountered them for these noble purpo- 
ses. The hopes of enriching themselves could form a 
very small part of the motives of the first settlers, or of 
those who followed them for two or three generations. 
For a considerable period their daily fare was coarse, 
and sometimes scanty. The rigid practice of piety, 
industry, and temperance, fortified their minds and 
bodies, to endure the sufferings incident to the inhabi- 



323 



tants of a new country. These virtues gradually amelio- 
rated their condition, and procured them an increase of 
their means, and the suhjstantial comfortH of life. If they 
had been satisfied with this result, tiiey would not have 
risen above an establishment of Q,uakcrs or Moravians; 
but continued frugal, virtuous, thrifty and obscure. 
They, however, possessed more elevated designs; there 
were among them both clergymen and laymen, who 
were profound scholars, who had imbibed in the Eng- 
lish universities the soundest conviction of the value of 
learning, and that religion especially could not be 
maintained without it. Hence, they never lost sight of 
the necessity of instruction; schools were at once estab- 
lished, and they founded a college during the first 
generation. It was this enliglitened course that gave a 
peculiar tone to their character. Talent and education 
were assured of their legitimate importance, and they 
constantly showed themselves the watchful and jealous 
guardians of every religious and civil right. 

These men belonged to that class who were called, 
or rather stigmatized with the name of Puritans; yet, 
under this name, the most virtuous and energetic part of 
the English nation were at one time enrolled. The 
Independents were the persons who kept the state from 
falling under the despotism of the Stuarts, and religion 
perhaps from relapsing into the power of (he Pope. 
There were of course many fanatics among them, and 
their extravagances were imputed to the whole. In 
those who came here, there was great rigour and ad- 
hesiveness to their particular tenets; yet fewer absurd 
fanatics than in England. There was no deficiency, 
however, of bigotry or narrow-minded prejiidices; and 
these were often most obstinately manifested in trifles. 



324 



This was the fault of the age, when trifles were magni- 
fied into importance; or, to speak more justly, when 
trifles were considered the indications of fundamental 
principles: the latter were in fact the subject of contest, 
in the name of the former. 

Many circumstances contributed to preserve an aus- 
tere bias of character in these colonists. The country 
gave no rich productions to create wealth and luxury, 
and therefore offered few inducements for men to expa- 
triate themselves, except they were stimulated by the 
same motives that led the first settlers. The gradual 
increase of the population left the first comers a pre- 
ponderating influence, and obliged successive emigrants 
to assimilate themselves to them. The plain and sim- 
ple manners, the gravity of character, the sternness of 
religious principle, the bigotry of their opinions, re- 
pelled all foreigners, and almost all Englishmen of other 
sects, from coming here, and all such who crossed the 
Atlantic went into other colonies. Education was en- 
tirely in the hands, or under the direction of the clergy, 
who were all Independents or Calvinists. The first 
magistrates of the country were all men of noble sim- 
plicity and rigid virtue ; and there was no levity or 
profligacy of conduct in the leading men in society, 
that could countenance or excuse any frolicking or de- 
bauchery among inferior people. These were the prin- 
cipal causes which gave that severe aspect to the man- 
ners, that similarity and unity of faith and practice, both 
in religion and politics, which continued unimpaired for 
a century. 

The introduction of the Episcopal Church, favoured 
by the court, from motives of policy rather than reli- 
gion, and of other sects, — the mission of governors 



325 



from England, the increase of property, of commerce, 
and of the capital, created progressive alterations. 
These, however, grew imperceptibly, and their influ- 
ence was only superlicial. The principles, prejudices, 
and habits of the Puritans, had taken too deep root, and 
were too widel}/ i^pread, — I may add, fortunately, to be 
eradicated. They continued down, little diminished, 
till the Revolution, of which ihc.y were one of the ori- 
ginal causes. The concussion of war, and, above all, of 
civil war, — the introduction of many foreigners, — the 
sudden alliance with France, after a century and a half 
of deadly animosity, hciglitened with alt the strength of 
provincial and religious bitternegs, — the cordial recep- 
tion and intermixture of the most a<'complished noblesse 
of the French court, with the plain citizens of thig 
hitherto remote and secluded country, (strange con- 
trast!) — the changes, the excitement, the patriotism, 
the profligacy created by war, passed away, leaving few 
traces, out of the large towns. And since the Revolu- 
tion, the wide extension of commerce, the great accu- 
mulation of wealth, the spirit of enterprise, stimulated 
and exerted to the utmost, — the ardent feeling of adven- 
ture, which has sent so many young men into every 
part of the world in pursuit of pleasure, instruction, or 
gain, — all these, combined, have left the solid fabric of 
our character and manners as unchanged as the granite 
rocks of our country; — and the variations they have pro- 
duced render it only more striking to the scrutiny of a 
philosophical observer. 

The original system of discipline for the young, which 
is still almost every where in force, turned principally 
on two points, — the subjuiration of the passions, and a 
perfect equality of standing, — giving to seniority the 



326 



chief and almost exclusive claim to deference. Under 
the first of these was included the discouragement of vi- 
vacity, the reproof of all gayety, the condemnation of 
all angry emotions and impetuous expression. The per- 
petual lessons inculcated, during childhood and youth, 
were to be mild, submissive, serious, devotional, and 
respectful to age. All brilliant sallies were checked, 
and any impatient sprightliness frowned upon. A steady 
composure, a calm and gentle demeanour, a slow and 
cautious habit of reasoning, were held up as the objects 
of imitation. The equality of condition, which was 
carried very fiir in society, was perfect in all the 
schools ; the children were all on a footing ; the station 
or wealth of the parent caused no distinctions, — they 
were all allowed the same advantages, and exposed to 
the same treatment ; and all taught to bow to every 
passing stranger, and to every old man in the village. 
Some change has taken place in this respect; — wealthy 
parents have sought for more select schools, — their 
children perceive sooner the advantages they possess, 
and a little arrogance on this account is not wholly re- 
pressed ; — childish impetuosity and juvenile presump^ 
tion are partially tolerated, under the idea that their ta- 
lents will be more readily developed, and their character 
be rendered more decisive and enterprisinsr- It is not. 
perhaps, quite decided that this is an improvement. 

A punctual attendance on public worship, from in- 
fancy, and the great use that was made of the Bible in 
the schools, contributed very much to the establishment 
of sober habits. The imiversal practice of perusing 
the scriptures, which, in former times, constituted al- 
most the exclusive reading, has had a great influence, 
not only in promoting religion among the people, but 



327 



upon their manners and habits of thinking. The pru- 
dential maxims, the solemn, impassioned denunciations 
against oflenders, in the Old Testament, and the [eace- 
ful, earnest exhortations, to humility, patience, modera- 
tion, and charity, in the New, were so often heard and 
read, that they could not fail of producing some efl'ect. 
In fact, all the education of the country was blended 
with them, and in all public speaking frequent allusions 
were made to this knowledge, as being most common 
with the hearers, as well as the speakers. It was not 
only exhortation or argument that vras thus rendered 
more impressive, but a witty allusion, if not indecorous, 
would be the species of illustration most widely relished 
and understood. 'I'his general and constant use of the 
scriptures produced another incidental advantage; — it 
kept up a comparative purity in the language of the 
people, — the clear and simple English of our old trans- 
lation was easily understood, and being in such constant 
use, the whole style of writing and speaking was founded 
upon it. 

Every system will be liable to a particular clasi 
of ill consequences, resulting from the mistake or in- 
capacity of those who are reared under it. Thus, in 
some countries, where it is sought to excite the vivacity 
of children, where they are taught to be graceful, 
where their sprightly sallies are applauded, and they 
are urged to make a display ; — we are sure to encoun- 
ter a great deal of the " vivacity of inanity," to be de- 
pressed with a tedious gayety, and to yawn under the 
efibrts of an artificial sprightliness. Under the stoical 
plan of subduioj^the passions and controlling even their 
harmless emotions, the simulation that ensues will be of 
an opposite kind, and the annoy ange it produces more 



328 



Megative; downright dulness will take the mask oi 
gravity; a constitutional indifference and lifeless apathj 
will pretend to be calm reason and profound reflection; 
a cool, calculating cunning, will assume the garb of 
prudent caution and reserve. It is in vain to attempt 
to raise any strong emotion in such individuals; they 
turn the edge and blunt the point of every mental 
weapon; wit or argument are both powerless; they are 
impervious. 

If I were writing a treatise, I might apologize for this 
digression. — The results of the education I have men- 
tioned might be inferred without seeing them. Such 
a people must be serious, reflecting, and cold in their 
manners; that they are the former, cannot be disputed, 
any more than that they are the calmest people in 
their deportment of any k\ the world. 1 use the word 
calmest, rather than coldest, as more truly applicable. 
Could such tuition be introduced under a despotism; 
were it compatible with it, the subjects would be the most 
quiet of all slaves. But here, where it is given under 
a government, whose leading principle is the minimum 
of restraint, its object is to avoid rashness and violence, 
and to make the citizens deliberate and orderly. The 
constant habit of political and religious discussion, 
and the familiarity with law proceedings, tend to nourish 
acuteness and foresight in reasonings, as well as in 
perceiving the actual relation of things. There is so 
much liberty, such entire equality of privileges; enter- 
prise is so unfettered, that there must be great intensity 
in thought, and great energy in action. There are no 
people more capable of measured excitement, or more 
steadily persevering; there are none who can be made 
♦o feel so much, and, at the same time, exhibit so little 



;}29 



exterior emotion. Pantomime is absolutely unknown. 
Those who have been taught to give their l"eeling«i 
vent in gesticulations and exclamations, are conibund- 
ed at the tranquillity of one of our audiences; yet 
the proof, that this is not owing to insensibility, is the 
profound and motionless attention which an able orator, 
either at the bar, in the pulpit, or the senate chamber, 
will produce among his hearers of every description; 
this, after all, is the highest scale of applause, the most 
animating and glorious to the speaker. But an orator 
must be very cautious in order to create this effect: it 
must depend rather on the steady heat of than on the 
warmth of his manner, to succeed. He must have com- 
plete control of his passions, and resort to vehemence of 
expression, and a display of emotion, in a very sparing 
method. I have witnessed a discussion at the Institute, 
where all the philosophers of France were assembled, 
that would have provoked open laughter here. I have 
heard debates in both Houses of the British Parliament, 
where the tone would have been much too impetuous 
for a caucus; I have heard speeches in Congress com- 
mence in such a mock impassioned style, and terminat- 
ing in heroics, as would have been deemed flatly ludi- 
crous. An orator loses all influence who gets in a 
passion; every body is on guard against the contagion; he 
excites only pity or ridicule; a fiery speaker, in any of 
our assemblies, is like a live coal fallen on ice; he may 
sputter for a moment, but is soon extinguished. He 
who uses the words that burn, must be so tempered, 
as not to become heated by their emission; he mast re- 
semble those mountains, from which the lava makes way 
over a belt of snow, to overwhelm all before it. 

I have dwelt long on this subject, to show how far 



330 



back the origin of our manners may be traced : that it 
grew out of the soundest and purest part of the Eng- 
lish nation, who in contending against the encroach- 
ments and corruptions of the crown and the mitre, 
were naturally led into the extreme of opposition: that 
from this body of men proceeded the first colonists of 
New-England, whose austere principles, and the hard- 
ships to which they were exposed, prevented any from 
joining them, except the most resolute and inflexible. 
These colonists, thus separated from the rest of the 
world and its allurements, another chosen people in 
the wilderness, as they were apt to consider themselves, 
were here nurtured in hardships and privations. They 
were exempt from the defections and relapses which 
took place in the mother country after the Restoration : 
in fact, desertion went on there, and recruiting flourished 
here, until this portion became the most numerous and 
respectable part of the Independent, dissenting interest. 
Their tenets here were steadily maintained j every 
thing around harmonized with their severity; and as 
there was neither example nor reward to entice sece- 
ders, none fell off", except those who were unable to 
sustain so much stern self-denial. The principles of 
the Puritans were, therefore, inculcated uninterruptedly 
in every school, and practised in every society; they 
became so thoroughly incorporated with the whole so- 
cial system, that even now our manners are deeply im- 
bued with them, though both in theory and practice 
their rigour, as well as uniformity, are at least greatly 
relaxed. 

The cold, passionless appearance which our man- 
ners exhibit, must not, therefore, be taken as the founda- 
tion of our character. Under this exterior will be 



331 



often found a force of humour, an ardour of thought, 
and energy of action, which surprise those unacquainted 
with the disposition of the inhabitants. There is a 
slow, deliberative manner, that is sometimes very pro- 
voking to impatient dispositions; but when the occasion 
calls for it, there is no sluggishness, indiflerence, or 
faltering. An eminent individual relates of himself 
an anecdote, which will illustrate these remarks. Talk- 
ing one day with his superior officer, the passionate, 
impetuous. General Charles Lee, the latter exclaimed, 
" Why the devil do you stare at me, with your mouth 
" open; why don't you reply quicker ? — I say every 
'* thing off hand that comes into my head, and by G — d I 
" am ashamed of my own questions long before 1 get 
" your answer." — He explained to him, (slowly, how- 
ever,) that the habit was inveterate; that he supposed it 
grew out of the situation in which the Puritans were 
placed; they were persecuted, and obliged to be very 
cautious with answers they gave, to avoid difficulties; 
and this, with many of their habits, had been handed 
down, and became a part of our education. Watch these 
people when a conflagration takes place, or any sudden 
emergency, demanding promptitude, courage, and ex- 
pedients, and then observe a collection of these citizens; 
taken any where, the difficulty will be discovered to 
exist in the abundance, rather than in the deficiency 
of these qualities. 

There is one advantage we derive from education, 
that may be justly valued. Opinion is met by opinion, 
and not by violence. The dirk and the pistol are 
hardly known as arguments, or needed as correctives. 
Duels are almost unheard of, except among militar}' 
men, and there chiefly conlined to subalterns. There 



332 



is hardly any person of mature age in society that would 
dare violate public feeling, by engaging in a personal 
contest. If there is not always good-temper, there 
is at least good-nature, and a man is disgraced who 
shows a want of it. Personal ferocity is so much dis- 
couraged, that he who cannot subdue his disposition, 
must take to the woods. A boxing match, or a blow, 
are of much more rare occurrence than they were a 
generation since; the habit of applauding or stimulating 
such feats was renounced with our transatlantic allegiance. 
The accumulation of wealth, the frequency and 
rapidity of intercourse with all parts of our own, and 
many foreign countries, has had some influence. The 
former gave the means, and the latter furnished the 
examples, which could not be imitated without a relaxa- 
tion of the primitive rigour and simplicity of society, 
and an emancipation from some narrow prejudices. 
Still the progress of luxury, and the innovations on an- 
cient opinions, have proceeded in a very measured man- 
ner. A little more elegance, a moderate increase of 
luxurious comforts, and greater liberality, if not great- 
er candour, in matters of opinion, are the present 
limits of the change. Hospitality on a moderate scale 
of expense, and an easy style of social intercourse, still 
maintain their ground against mere parade and idle in- 
sipid etiquette. The style of manners is in the right line 
to reach perfection; for this consists in a chastened ease 
and polished simplicity; total absence of affectation and 
pretension. If none can boast of having reached this point, 
yet at least, in pursuit of it, they have not deviated into 
false methods. That sort of bustling importance, a loud 
step, a spreading diameter of movement, a rustling ap- 
proach, an aftected tone of voice, an assumed contidence, 



333 



and all the train of restless manoeuvres to obtain personal 
consequence, which are so fashionable in some countries 
of Europe, fail here entirely. It is quite amusing to ohserve 
some foreigners, or some of our young men on their first re- 
turn from abroad, practising some of these airs in vain: 
there is no corresponding flutter; they are met with 
such a calm, ruinous composure, that they are soon 
abashed, and forced to adopt a natural, tranquil de- 
meanour. If they have not intrinsic merit enough to 
sustain themselves in this simple state, they must sink, 
till they find their level, and remain quiet in a corner. 
In alluding to the increase of wealth, as producing 
effect on society, it may be remarked, that its influence 
is less here than in Europe. On the Exchange, among 
merchants in the prosecution of their business, it is 
of course the first inquiry, the prevailing solicitude, 
the universal aim. Intelligence is so much diff"used, 
the processes for multiplying riches have become so nu- 
merous, through the extension of commerce, that there 
are few persons who do not strive for something more 
than a mere subsistence. The maxim, that wealth is 
power, is very widely known, and the rivals for this 
power are numerous. But its votaries are not all in- 
ordinate; some are satisfied with obtaining a moderate 
share of it, while a great number are content to gain a 
decent competence in the various pursuits of public or 
professional life. But wealth is still of less relative 
importance here than in older countries. And this ad- 
vantage grows out of the noble simplicity of our insti- 
tutions, and of our public characters. The accumu- 
lation of wealth in the aristocracy of Europe, has so 
accustomed the subjects of those countries to a gaudy 

28* 



334 



display and parade, that no man can fill a high station 
without them; a great statesman, or a great commander, 
could not exist there without a retinue, an equipage, and 
the costly profusion of the table, as they have done in 
former times, and do still among us. If the person 
who fills any considerable station does not possess a 
fortune, the government must either provide for him, by 
salaries that crush their finances, or he must retire 
from the stage. The public are so accustomed to the 
display of opulence, that they think respectability can- 
not exist without it. A bishop, therefore, must have a 
princely revenue; a minister or a commander must 
possess a great income, to over-awe the vulgar,or he can- 
not hold his situation. A luxurious display is so common; 
opulence is considered so essential to dignity, that great 
talents must have great wealth, to support an appear- 
ance in the world, which a wrong estimate of wealth 
and talents respectively renders necessary. We go 
here into the opposite extreme; but the simplicity that 
surrounds our public employments, keeps up the re- 
spect due to talent, and makes riches of less importance. 
The first offices in the country have been, and commonly 
are filled by men almost destitute of fortune; and mere 
wealth has seldom attempted, and still more rarely suc- 
ceeded, in a struggle for public favours, against talent 
without it. 

The plain and modest manner in which our highest 
magistrates, and all persons in public employ, are forced 
to live, even if their inclination is otherwise, from 
their having such low salaries, and generally small for- 
lunes, tends to keep down the consequence of wealth, and 
to prevent a ruinous, idle ostentation, from becoming 
fashionable. Expenses run more in the line of real 



335 



hospitality, of substantial pleasures, and enjoyments of 
.an intellectual description. The cost of showy equipa- 
ges goes into a hospitable table; the savings from frivo- 
lous extravagance in dress, are converted into wine that 
has travelled farther than Alexander, with full as much 
power to subdue the world, and more to cheer it; the 
wages of useless servants decorate our walls, or our 
libraries, with the productions of genius. Ostentation 
is exhibited in no form of expense, except perhaps in 
houses. There is a taste for having large and ele- 
gant houses, when the owner enters into no corres- 
pondent expenditure. Should this style of building, 
and a taste for the luxuries of the table, be carried much 
farther in the capital, it will recall the observation that 
was once made on a city of Italy, of which it was said, 
" that the inhabitants feasted as if they had not a day 
" to live, and built as if they were never to die." 

Another circumstance which tends powerfully to re- 
press extravagant expense, are the laws regulating the 
division of property among heirs. Children, in the eye 
of the law, have all equal rights, and if no will is made, 
the parent's estate is divided among them equally. Na- 
tural affection commonly acts on this principle, which 
it may seem to have dictated ; though sometimes the 
partiality, but more often the vanity of an individual, 
may give a principal part of his estate to one child, un- 
der the impulse of some vague, confused feelings of 
pride about preserving his name : a foolish expectation, 
that is often productive of cruel injustice, and is always 
followed by disappointment. Even the permanent aris- 
tocratic system of Europe, for perpetuating certain fami- 
lies, is subject to numerous, and some of lliem strange, 
accidents. But here it is a staring absurdity ; beeaueo 



336 



the design must be defeated. The principle runs coun- 
ter to the spirit of our institutions, — and our legisla- 
tures will always assist every combination of heirs to 
break entails. The only mode of sustaining a family 
is by education; by implanting in the minds of children, 
prudence, discretion; and under the guidance of these 
virtues, a degree of public spirit, that may endear them 
to their fellow-citizens. There is nothing but a suc- 
cession of abilities and useful services that can retain 
public esteem ; there is no rank and no possession so 
protected by the laws against the mischief which folly 
and profligacy will create, that they will survive it, to 
descend entire to some more virtuous representative. 
Public esteem and respect can only be secured by each 
man for himself; — no one can value himself long on the 
merits of his father or grandfather ; — the virtues or the 
fame of his ancestors may, indeed, serve him for a fa- 
vourable introduction, but he must then rely on himself; 
and he, perhaps, falls even lower, if he is unable to 
imitate their conduct. 

The constant division of property prevents any great 
estate from being long kept together. The current of 
fortune may accumulate its golden sand in one spot, but 
the first storm, or the first ebbing tide, will scatter it 
away, and heap it in a different place. Wealth is not 
often preserved through three generations, because it 
cannot be placed in fixtures, out of the control of indi- 
viduals to dissipate it. A man, therefore, with considera- 
ble wealth, who maintains his family in elegance, is 
obliged to economize a large part of his income ; and 
even then, when it comes to be divided among his chil- 
dren, it will not enable all of them to live in the same 
style with their father. This successive dispersion of 



337 



the riches that industry, skill, and good luck have 
brought together, is attended with this useful conse- 
quence, that every rational man, satisfied, from what he 
daily sees, of the uncertain tenure of wealth, gives all 
his children an education, that may enable them to exist 
after its loss. Every man learns some profession or 
mystery, that may serve him in case of need. The 
fruges consuincre nati form a very small number; — almost 
every man is occupied with production. 

The tluctuation in wealth, which is here so incessant, 
prevents too much arrogance from its possessor, or, at 
least, hinders it from being hereditary. A good name, 
to be sure, is something ; — it would be hard, indeed, if 
it were not ; but those who are in possession of the first 
rank in society, can only maintain it against the intru- 
sion of vulgar pretensions and impudent mediocrity. It 
is impossible to exclude real merit ; — this takes rank 
at once, with as little opposition as courage in the hour 
of danger. The prejudices against a particular profession 
or calling, cannot be exerted towards any man of talents, 
or become subservient to ridicule. A man is only ob- 
noxious to this kind of obloquy, when he has suddenly 
risen on the wheel of fortune, and gives himself airs, 
from her caprices in his favour ; the revenge of society 
is then furnished by memory. But men of the gVeatest 
eminence in this country have risen from the deei)est 
obscurity ; they have " achieved greatness," and the 
attempt to reproach them with that obscurity, would 
here be deemed absurd. This is one generous triumph 
over the narrow bigotry of aristocracy. Talents not 
only find the way, from poverty and depression, to be 
fostered and distinguished, but thetrutli, which the pri- 
rileged would suppress in Europe, is here often felt, 



338 



that nature makes more real gentlemen, than evea 
rank or fashion. This state of society will, however, 
offer some difference in its aspect, from one, where 
those who constitute the fashionable part of it are 
formed and finished out of a certain exclusive portion, 
from materials that are, perhaps, intrinsically inferior. 
Our society must present more of energy and robust- 
ness, from being so frequently crossed by the native 
vigour of wild stocks. There are many who, reared 
in prosperity, are too refined, or too feeble, when a 
reverse comes, to struggle successfully with the talent 
that has acquired hardihood and force under the adver- 
sity from which it is emerging ; — many such, who would 
have discharged the duties of superior situations respec- 
tably and gracefully, recede from an eager competition. 
They sink away, and are lost in the shade. This mis- 
fortune, if it be one to society, excites only a transient, 
individual pit3% and is without a remedy. 

Intelligent and cultivated minds are scattered over the 
whole country ; and the high tone of moral sentiment 
which is the consequence, is one great source of our 
strength. There are two or three small cities in Con- 
necticut, and many villages, where a circle, composed 
of intelligent and refined people, may be found, particu- 
larly New-Haven, the seat of Yale College, Hartford, 
and Litchfield, whose civilizing influence extends over 
all the district about them. In Massachusetts, there 
are also many such circles. Salem, from whence com- 
merce is very actively and successfully pursued, and 
where it has deposited a great deal of wealth, is re- 
markable for the retired, secluded habits of its popula- 
tion ; but contains some individuals who have made dis- 
tinguished attainments in science and literature, in which 



33S 

they have published several works. Worcester, North- 
ampton, and Newburyport, may also be cited, among 
others, for having produced distinguished men. Port- 
land, Hallowell, and Brunswick, the seat of Boudoin 
College, in Maine, — Portsmouth, Concord, and Hanover, 
the seat of Dartmouth College, in New-Hampshire, — 
Windsor, and Burlington, in Vermont, — Providence and 
Newport, in Rhode-Island, may be mentioned in this list. 
In these small towns are to be Ibund able professional 
men, — and in some of them, country gentlemen, with 
very competent fortunes, who generally possess a very 
salutary influence in their districts. These are, besides, 
dispersed in lesser towns, and thus no village is left 
without some men of liberal education, who contribute 
to the diifusion of information and the elevation of 
public sentiment. 

The traces of primitive manners are more visible ia 
the country, where they could be more easily preserved 
from change. The man who, from having received a 
liberal education, and possessing a considerable landed 
estate, is entitled to the appellation of a country gentle- 
man, was always a person of influence. To maintain 
this influence, grave, and rather severe habits, a plain, 
calm dignity of manner, a strict attention to religious 
duties, were necessary, — and also to abstain from all 
jovial and boisterous amusements. No levity, no im- 
morality, was permitted in any one who held any public 
station. Such was the country gentleman, who held any 
office in the state in former times, and such, in some in- 
stances, he still continues. But this dignified and austere 
cast of character has not alw<iys been fortunate, — at 
least, in recent times, in giving the same habits to his 
children. The sons have often fallen short of the fa- 



340 

thers' reputation, or whoHy disgraced it, and wasted 
their estate in profligate dissipation. I have seen some 
instances, where this misfortune grew out of mistaken 
principles of education, and an adherence to certain 
forms of behaviour in the parent, which may have an- 
swered in earlier times, but became inexpedient as so- 
ciety advanced. There was something patriarchal in a 
family establishment formerly ; the whole household j' 
were assembled at morning and evening prayers ; the 
servants were not menials, and the children mixed free- 
ly with them. The dignity of the parent kept up a re- 
serve that inspired awe, and restrained the confidences 
of his children. No very nice distinction was made in 
the kind of respect that was due from the children, on 
account of their youth, or that which was paid by the 
hired people, on account of their station. These latter 
were seldom born and seldom died servants ; they serv- 
ed for a time, till their wages would enable them to 
begin clearing land for a farm. In such an establishment, 
the gradations of respect turned more on the point of 
age than any other; and perhaps the children might 
have been so treated two or three generations since, 
without any ill consequences. As the state of things 
altered, as the domestic discipline was a little relaxed, 
the reserve and coldness of the parent drove the boys 
more into the company of dependents, who gave them 
vulgar ideas and clownish manners, and when they 
succeeded to their fathers' property, it was only to 
waste it in vicious intemperate excesses. 

The general equality of property marks a vigorous 
and healthy state of society, where the two extremes 
bear a small relative proportion to the whole. Every 
man may be, and every farmer is a landed proprietor; 



341 



the relationship of landlonl and tenant is not nuine 
reus; it might be advantageous if it >vcre more so. A 
young farmer beginning hfe, lays out .all his means, and 
runs in debt for the purchase of his farm, which keeps 
him encumbered for a number of years; he has not 
capital sufficient to become a land owner. If he began 
by hiring a farm for a few years, rents arc so low, that 
he would be increasing his capital, and eventually be- 
come a proprietor with more facility, and at the end 
of fifteen years would be a richer farmer, if he passed 
the tirst seven, as a tenant, than if he had commenced 
the first year on his own land. This, however, is little 
practised; the natural pride of owning land ])revails 
over the calculations; but the gradual j)rogrcss in the 
tenure of property is increasing the number of tenant* 
and landlords. For a long and almost indefinite period, 
at least till our vast western regions are peopled, this 
must be productive of mutual advantage in the older 
districts. Capitalists, by making investments in lands, 
lend their capital to agriculture, and the tenant having 
his little property all active, can employ it with success, 
and get beforehand in his affairs, to become a proprie- 
tor afterwards. The miscbievous tendency of the 
system, to engross all lands in the hands of a few, and 
by deriving the greatest possible amount of rent, reduce 
the tenant to dependence, and the labourer to pau- 
perism, cannot happen in tliis country for centuries. 

There are few persons here who can suffer absolute 
distress from poverty. That which arises among the weal- 
thier classes, from great reverses, I am not considering; 
but an uncertainty about the common means of subsist- 
ence, can never happen in the country, except to the 
miserable drunkard, or the unfortunate victim of some 
29 



342 



bgdily or mental infirmity, who of course are suppori 
edby the public, when destitute of friends; the labour- 
ing man, with health and good habits, may always obtain 
the comforts of life, «nd increase his savings. Every 
industrious man may look forward with certainty to 
becoming the proprietor in fee simple of a small farm; 
and there are thousands who, with nothing but their 
labour and good management, have found themselves, at 
the middle of their lives, owners of a large one, produ- 
cing ample means to give them all the comforts of 
life. 

As unremitted exertion is not requisite to obtain the 
common means of living, it is seldom found, except 
among those who, under the impulse of ambition or 
avarice, strive for something higher, and who of course 
form the minority. That steady, mechanical, mill- 
horse toil, which is general in Europe, is not often seen 
here; and where it is not necessary, it cannot be expect- 
ed. The whole quantity of work performed in a given 
time, however, will not be less here than there. The 
manner is more irregular; the labour is more by tits 
and starts; at certain periods it is very arduous and 
effective. When once stimulated, no people perform 
more in a short period; they will not trot so long pa- 
tiently in a harness; but bring them to a competition, to 
a match against time, and they will show blood and bone 
too. They are susceptible of excitement in a very high 
degree, and for a long period : when they once " spring 
to it,''' the results are prodigious. After the late war, 
the American and English officers compared notes on 
the frontiers, with respect to certain work that been 
done, and where both parties had exerted themselves 
to make a rapid progress : it was found, that in ship- 



343 



building, in making intrencliments, ami other clfort-., 
our people had exceeded the others hy at least 
one-fourth. This was what might be expected from 
their respective habits. borne improvement in our 
practice may be made; yet it may be hoped the period 
is distant when incessant, unvaried drudgery, whicli 
destroys all elasticity of mind and body, shall become 
indispensable to the support of our population; Uut 
more regular efforts than are now habitual, would be 
accompanied with many good consequences. 

This efl'ect will, 1 think, grow out of the improvement 
that is now taking place in agriculture, and also from the 
gradual increase of manufactures. Our system of farming 
was so simple, so bad in short, that it left the farmer 
with much time unemployed, and of course very small 
gains. The labour was very intense at certain periods, 
such as planting the May harvest, &c. and very sluggish 
the rest of the time. But when greater skill is employ- 
ed in farming, the labours of the year are more equally 
distributed. A great deal of ploughing is now done in 
the autumn, that w<is formerly all conlined to the spring; 
the collection of manures, the dressing of lands, now 
go on at seasons that were before passed in compara- 
tive idleness. If there were no increase of production 
and wealth from an improved state of agriculture, its 
tendency to form more regular habits of industry would 
be a sufficient motive for its promotion. 

The extremes of heat and cold have some influence 
on the customs of labouring people, and still more on 
the habits of those who use exercise for health and 
amusement. It is a general fault, that we do not take 
exercise enough, and the only excuse is, that in extreme 
heat, and extreme cold, it is diificult; and it is not easy 



344 



fo maintain a habit which is liable to long interruptioho, 
Reason would be well employed in trying to make ex- 
ercise more fashionable with both sexes and with all 
classes; and particularly in persuading the public, that 
there is nothing ignominious in walking, and that younc, 
men should prefer mounting a horse to lounging in a 
gig : the former may be of some use, the latter can be 
ot.very little. A more frequent practice of manly exer- 
cise is a desirable object, for the young men, especially, 
of all classes. A stranger, who has seen Europe, and 
should then observe our highways, could not fail of be- 
ing struck with the excessive dilTerence in the propor- 
tions between those who walk, and those who ride here, 
and on the other side of the Atlantic. There are here 
no brilliant equipages, as are frequent there; but in this 
country every one rides; few on horseback, but in ve- 
Jiicles of some sort all are riding, — very few are on 
foot, — and this circumstance would alone indicate to him, 
very trul}^ not only the ease, but the love of it that pre- 
vail in this country. 

This general equality is not wholly without excep- 
tions : virtuous industry is sure of being rewarded with 
a competence; and a vicious, abandoned course, will 
entail misery on itself every where. We have no pa- 
laces, and very few hovels; a log-house is the first shel- 
ter for those who are making encroachments on the fo- 
rest, to bring new land under cultivation. This rude 
shelter is generally replaced in a few years by a more 
commodious dwelling. 1 have one instance of contrast 
in my mind, for an exception to the general condition, 
which I may cite, after premising that it forms an ex- 
treme case : — On the bank of one of the most beautiful 
rivers, in this country of beautiful rivers, in the midst 



345 



of some extensive park-like grounds, there .stands a mo- 
dest mansion, whose Grecian outhne and fair propor- 
tions are a happy type of the virtue, hospitality, and re- 
finement that reside beneath its roof. The road leading 
to the entrance of this estate, lies on the immediate 
bank of the river, which is fringed with a growth of 
birch, ash, oak, and evergreen trees, and various native 
shrubs, planted by nature in the most picturesque 
manner. A short distance from the gate, in a small 
nook, formed by the projection of a fence, where the 
bank rose a little above the road, there stood a shape- 
less hut, tenanted by a solitary hag, of the most omi- 
nous aspect. This strange being, after leading a life of 
the lowest profligacy in a village at about a mile's dis- 
tance, had selected this spot with some judgment, if not 
fancy, to establish herself when she could no longer find 
a home in the village. Having gradually collected from 
the river shore various pieces of floating lumber, she 
hired the aid of a carpenter for one day, which was suf- 
ficient to complete her residence; where she established 
herj^elf a few years before the mansion I have mentioned 
was built. A little labour, but chiefly the charity of the 
village, afforded her sustenance. As her strength de- 
clined, she could go no further than to the kind family 
of a worthy farmer, who was nearly the same distance 
from heron one side, that the proprietor of the domain 
was on the other. From these she obtained her food; 
the river supplied her with water, and its shores with 
driftwood for fuel, which in hard weather the neigh- 
bours sent " their people" to cut up. Her dwelling 
proved, very forcibly, how few are the real wants of 
hum in nature, and how great are the sulferings and pri- 
vations it can endure. 'J'owards the close of her life 



346 



this solitary creature, half blind, quite deaf, became so 
decrepit, that, with the aid of her staff, her daily visit to 
the neighbours was a tedious effort, though the distance 
was only a few rods. VVhen squatted down to rest her- 
self in one of these excursions, Fuseli might have de- 
rived some hints from the object, while painting his 
witch seated under a toadstool on the ground, out of 
which they both seemed to have grown the night pre- 
ceding. I have sometimes met her in the gloom of twi- 
light, sitting down by the side of the path in silence, 
like a fungus on its surface, and without distinguishing 
whet^ijer it was the sight, the hearing, or the mere vi- 
bration of the air, which the pulsation of any breathing 
thing will create, that gave the alarm. I have started 
from a reverie, when just on the point of treading on 
her; and I liave, several times, found my horse, albeit 
incapable of musing, affected in the same manner. The 
parish had once or twice placed her, from feelings of 
humanity, with their poor; but she could bear to live 
with no one, and no one could live with her. 

This desolate being railed against society, on which 
she had no hold : she belonged to no nation, for she was 
born at sea, in a ship coming from England; her mother 
died on the passage, and she never knew her parents; 
she had, therefore, as she said, neither kindred nor 
country. She was preserved, amidst a callous, indif- 
ferent world, as a feather may float, securely amidst 
rocks and eddies, where mightier things would perish* 
Fostered by the eleemosynary care of those to whom 
ohance had committed a helpless infant, she grew up 
without check, without guidance, and v/ithout en- 
■Bouragement. She led a life of the lowest profligacy, 
redeemed by no single virtue, except honesty. Th^ 



347 



just prejudices of the inhabitants had caused her 
sometimes to be accused of disihonesty, but an exami- 
nation always cleared her from this crime. She had 
two daughters, who left her, as she became infirm, to 
pursue, if possible, a worse career than her own, in the 
lowest haunts of the metropolis. — On making a visit 
not long since to my friend, as we were approaching his 
grounds, I perceived this hovel in a ruinous state, with 
(he roof torn off". I pointed " to the blackened ridge 
pole, of the ruined shealing," and accused him of 
having ousted poor Meg; he reddened slightly at the 
charge, like a man incapable of inhumanity; and told 
me that, having grown extremely feeble, she had been 
removed to a farm-house about a mile below; there she 
received such care as common humanity could bestow, 
and there this miserable wretch, desolate and friendless, 
after lingering about three weeks, terminated a long life 
of hideous profligacy, with the most frightful execrations 
and blasphemies. 

One of the characteristics of the people generally is 
inqnisitiveness; this is sometimes carried to an amusing 
length, and has often been awkwardly caricatured by 
daubers. The tine and deep vein of humour which 
Dr. Franklin possessed, was exerted in a well-known 
story, and has formed the basis of many a miserable 
imitation. This curiosity is not always impertinent, 
and often marks an intelligent people. They do not 
sarry it quite to the extent which the Parisians do; and 
a man in the best society of Paris, will have as many 
point-blank questions directed at him, as he will en- 
counter in Connecticut or Vermont. But this disposi- 
tion to inquiry, often proceeds from kind and simple 
feelings, and is commonly accompanied with a degree 



348 



of communicativeness, that shows confidence, and a 
willingness to give as well as receive. None but ill-tem- 
pered persons need dread much annoyance on this score; 
because the curiosity may be easily checked by a little 
address or good- nature. A traveller will always meet 
(the exceptions will at least be rare) with a friendly, 
obliging disposition, when in want of information, or any 
accidental assistance, if he acts with civility: I mean 
true civility, and not an insolent condescension. There 
are no people who can perceive, and feel the difference 
more quickly; and there are none who are more skilful 
in regulating themselves accordingly. A person with 
the Cockney tone of manners, presuming upon that por- 
tion of a gentlemanly exterior, that his tailor has been 
able to give him, may chance to come in contact with a 
man in a plain or even working dress, who may be in 
every thing his superior, and the degree of satisfaction 
he will receive will depend on the style of conversation 
he may adopt. Generally speaking, it is a good rule to 
presume every man to be your equal: it will be found 
that civility is seldom thrown away, even upon an infe- 
rior. 

If the time should ever arrive that we shall possess 
a domestic theatre, with authors and actors who have 
been accustomed, from infancy, to observe and feel the 
nice shades of local peculiarities, the comic muse will 
have some worthy offerings from this section of our 
country. The class of clowns in European comedies 
have here their counterparts, but greatly varied by the 
institutions under which they live An equal degree of 
awkwardness, rendered more ludicrous, by a greater 
degree of education; a good deal of native shrewdness, 
with a large portion of social simpleness, will give rise 



349 



to many scenes ol' comedy. Go a step or two higher, 
and take individuals of both sexes, who have hved in 
sechision, with some natural tendency to eccentricity, 
and have got all their ideas of society from books, and of 
dress from their own fancy; and watch them, when they 
make an incursion into the world, and the comedian 
will find them replete with excellent matter. But 
•comedy can never rise among us until we have native 
actors, who can seize upon the wire edge of what is 
humorous in character, under which all its sharpness 
is concealed. There is something peculiar in every 
national character, which, like idiom in language, or 
accent in speaking, a foreigner can rarely, if ever 
attain. 

I have often derived amusement from the singularities 
to which I here allude, but observed them too vaguely 
to attempt their description. I can only offer you a 
rough sketch of an individual, who fell in my way some 

time since. Hezekiah K left his wife and his 

home at a mature age, to better his condition by a tem- 
porary absence. He came to Boston, to let himself for 
help; and, to express it in other words, entered inta 
service in a gentleman's family, and changed his place 
but once during this career. His tall and rather gaunt 
person, was surmounted by an appropriate head, whose 
sandy locks fringed a countenance of very hard outline, 
the expression of which was serfous, bat not gloomy. 
Had you seen him in the street when the state of Massa- 
chusetts was represented en masse, a few years ago, 
you might have taken him for a delegate, or if a dis- 
tressed traveller had met him on the road, when the 
Sabbatists were in power, he might have imagined him 
to be a tithing-man. I do not know in what capacity 



350 



jie originally entered these families; but he served, on 
occasion, as a double to every servant, from the coach- 
man to the chambermaid. He could drive the horses, 
cook the dinner, sweep the apartments, and make the 
beds; and when he had nothing else to do, would sit 
down to sew; making his own clothes and mending his 
own stockings. With one of these gentlemen he went 
lo Washington, and though in place, he was rather a 
dissatistied man, which arose from two evils, his dread 
of the small-pox, and his disgust at the shiftless, sluggish 
movement of slaves. Whether it was from these cir- 
cumstances only, or from his having nothing of what 
Talleyrand calls the future in his mind, he had a prejudice 
against the metropolis of the Union; and in his plain, in- 
offensive way, observed, " it was no more like a city than 
Cambridge-port." — ^^Perhaps, in some of these points, a 
European servant would be found to resemble him; but 
there is one in which the parallel would cease: — when he 
left his last place, it was to return home with his wages, 
to a farm of a hundred acres, which he owned in fee 
simple. 

There is a strong relish throughout this region for 
a kind of dry humour, that turns upon what is ludicrous 
in the contrasts and inconsistencies of character. A 
fondness for quaint comparisons; a good deal of skill in 
defeating argument, by involving it in some unexpected 
conclusion; a happy adaptation of a story or a parable to 
the subject in discussion; in expression of a very strong 
opinion, with an inevitable inference, but in an indirect 
way; with a tone of unyielding gravity and simplicity, — 
are the chief modes in which this humour is displayed. 
In the early times of these colonies, the clergy had so 
much control over all the movements of their pa- 



351 



rishioners; their intercourse with them was S6 direct and 
constant, that their names and character were frequently 
brought into view. Though almost invariably treated 
with respect, yet sometimes they came in collision with 
persons, or were placed in circumstances that occasioned 
ridiculous contrasts. Their formidable coadjutors, the 
deacons, who stood between them and this people, were 
obnoxious to a good detil more freedom of handling. 
The profession of rigid sanctity, and the habit of ex- 
terior solemnity, when, as it would sometimes happen, 
they were accompanied with a great degree of keenness 
in worldly interest, and occasionally with frailties very 
incompatible with their situation, were sure to be 
remarked, and made the subject of ridicule. This was 
a fruitful source of humorous anecdote, which is now 
diminishing, because the oflicers of this description 
have lost something of their relative consequence, in 
the progress of society; and politics, commerce, and 
newspapers, have found their way into every village, 
and occupied the inhabitants more with distant, general 
concerns; and broken >ip that seclusion, which tended 
to form peculiarities in character and manners. 

If I could have recourse to some of our able narrators, 
I I could readily produce you numerous specimens of 
this humorous spirit. At the moment, my memory 
hardly serves me with the means of making an)' selection. 
I can only cite two or three examples, that may per- 
haps enable you to judge of t'nis disposition. An instance 
of quaint comparison is related in a town in the western 
part of Massachusetts, where the clergym;in was re- 
raarkable for giving his sermon very little connexion 
with his text. It stood like a sign post before a house 
where no tavern wae kept. When this peculiarity was 



352 



a subject of conversation, one of his parishioners 
observed of him, that if his text had the small-pox, his 
sermon could^nt catch it. — A few years ago, at the parade 
of the artillery election, which takes place on the com- 
mon in Boston, some confusion took place as the close 
of the procession was entering the ground appro- 
priated to the ceremony. The crowd was pressing 
very hard at the entrance, and the bar was put down 
before all the representatives had got in. Some of 
these called out to the officer who had charge of the 
passage, in a " tone expressive of their claim to ad- 
mission. We are representatives! — A man among the 
crowd immediately vociferated, in the same tone, We arc 
the people themselves ! 

TJie telling a story, or introducing a parable to have 
a witty application, is often practised. No instance 
occurs to my recollection that is not rather hackneyed; 
and the examples of them, which occur in Dr. Franklin's 
life and works, are known to all the world, and form 
the best examples. The following anecdote may be 
new to you, and will illustrate one of the species of 
humour I have mentioned. An individual in Connecti- 
cut, of great talents and respectable connexions, but 
who led a graceless, dissipated life, was travelling with 
a small party, the individuals of which were all known 
to each other. Among them was a very respectable 
matron, who, in the course of conversation, began to 
reproach this rake with the life he led. She lamented 
that a man with his abilities, of such a respectable 
family, should pursue such a course. Her zeal made 
her very eloquent, and the object of it began to wish 
to get rid of the discussion. He observed to her, that 
she was very severe; that people were very much the 



353 



same; that there was less difference than she supposed. 
O! no, she said; there was nobo<ly so bad as he. In a 
deprecating tone and manner, he replied, that most 
people would act alike, when put in the same situation; 
that his conduct and her's would be the same, if placed 
in similar circumstances. She retorted, that was im- 
possible; that they could never act alike in any case : 
he thought he could name one; — she defied him: — sup- 
pose then, madam, that in travelling, you came to an 
inn, where all the beds were full except two, and in one 
of these was a man, and in the other a woman, which 
would you take ? — Why, the woman's, to be sure. — 
Well, madam, said he, so would I. — Even the lady was 
obliged to join in the laugh, by which the prolligate wit 
made his escape from a troublesome argument. 

I have only one more anecdote to mention, and this 
I get from a newspaper : it may probably have gone the 
rounds of many of them, but it is so characteristic, that 
I shall run the hazard of repeating it. The substance 
of it is as follows : There made his appearance in Cin- 
cinnati, what they called there, I suppose figuratively, 
•' a good sleek Yankee :" he carried with him from Pitts- 
burg one thousand dollars in bills, issued by one of the 
banks in Cincinnati; he knew too well that those bills were 
at 20 per cent, discount, these banks having suspend- 
ed specie payments. He, however, chose to have the 
pleasure of visiting the bank, and entering it, went up 
to the counter, presented his bills with ". t^rave, expect- 
ing face, wishing to have specie for them ; they re- 
plied, they did not pay specie ; he seemed a little sur- 
prised, but asked, if the}' would give him in exchange 
the bills of any banks that did pay specie : he was told 
thev had none. — He now took a turn in the bank, and 

^ 30 



354 



then asked them, if they would give him bills of the 
*' Owl Creek," or of one or two other "■fog-banks " 
which were by-words even in that country : they told 
him that they would not be insulted. — Insulted ! — he 
assured them calmly it was no insult. — After taking ano- 
ther turn, he asked them, as an ultimatum, if they mould 
give him any tolerable well executed counterfeit notes of 
any bank in the Union that did pay specie. — They talked 
still louder about being insulted; when their trouble- 
some visiter, after taking a few more turns in the bank, 
departed. 

The character of this people must be in some de- 
gree known thi'oughout the United States; in every 
district there are emigrants from this quarter, and some 
whole states have been peopled from it; so that their 
character and manners are in some degree blended with 
those of every portion of the nation. All who migrate 
do not, as might be conjectured, present the most 
favourable specimens, or proceed from the soundest 
part of the population ; yet, in some places, vulgar 
prejudice has attempted to take even the smallest and 
worst part of those who leave us, as a fair sample of 
the whole : but this is only the error of low minds. 
Thousands go every year to other states, and hundreds 
foil untimely a sacrifice to sickly climates. The tide 
of emigration will long continue to flow, undiminished, 
from a healthy prolitic country; this must tend to bind, 
by intermixing the whole more strongly together. Our 
adventurous youth are ever on the wing to find new 
sources of advantage j they are carried every where by 

" Such winds as scatter young men through the world, 
" To seek their fortunes farther than at home, 
'•■ Where small experienfe grows." 



355 



From what I h;xve said, yoii will perhnps be able to 
form a just estimate of the general character of your 
fellow-citizens in this section of the Union. Those 
who know liem will, I think, allow that they are brave, 
intelligent, mild, enterprising, and serious; with much 
more mental cultivation, and more retinement of senti- 
ment, than either brilliancy of exterior or polish of 
manner; — that they are hospitable and benevolent, 
with very little of etiquette or ostentation; — that they 
are dispassionate by education and habit; ardent and 
persevering from nature and circumstances; — that in 
religion, they are disposed to attend more to things 
than to words; in politics, more solicitous for freedom, 
than for sway; — that the forms of society are simple, 
its intercourse easy. Those who have a relish for the 
domestic style of enjoyments, and value its influence, 
would here experience great satisfaction. A celebrated 
diplomatist, whose knowledge of our country equals 
that of any native, and whose philosophic mind makes 
him always happy and brilliant in generalizing the 
results of that knowledge, has said, that the dilTerence 
between Europe and the United States, was this; " that 
" in America there was happiness without pleasure, 
" and in Europe pleasure without happiness." This, 
which was applied to the whole country, is fully true of 
this part of it. Pleasure, as it exists in the great cities 
of Europe, cannot be found on this side of the Atlantic; 
the cup of Circe could not be filled among us; but 
happiness abounds. Even the dissipation of society 
here, at least has a kind of family domestic air, that 
Tiakes it perfectly harmless; a salutary relaxation, of 
ivhich there is too little, rather than too much. All that 
IS public, enticing, and disengaged from household cares; 



356 



all that fosters the contagion of disordered passions, 
that kee'ps up a morbid excitement for dangerous enjoy- 
ments, and gives fashion the dominion over reason; all 
that kind of dissipation which furnishes moments of 
keen intoxicating pleasure, and hours of anguish or 
apathy, must be sought in Europe. Our dissipation is 
simpler; the Penates are always in sight, or at farthest 
in the next room; there are no irritable, feverish de- 
lights to be extracted from it; pleasure would tind the 
scenery and action insipid, where happiness presides 
with smiling complacency. 



FINIS 



